THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


//v 


HOW  WE  THINK 


BY 

JOHN    DEWEY 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY  IN  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITV 


D.  C.  HEATH  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
BOSTON    NEW  YORK    CHICAGO 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 

BY  D.  C.  HEATH  &  Co. 

107 


Education 
Library 


PREFACE 

OUR  schools  are  troubled  with  a  multiplication  of 
studies,  each  in  turn  having  its  own  multiplication  of 
materials  and  principles.  Our  teachers  find  their  tasks 
made  heavier  in  that  they  have  come  to  deal  with 
pupils  individually  and  not  merely  in  mass.  Unless 
these  steps  in  advance  are  to  end  in  distraction,  some 
clew  of  unity,  some  principle  that  makes  for  simplifica- 
tion, must  be  found.  This  book  represents  the  con- 
viction that  the  needed  steadying  and  centralizing  factor 
is  found  in  adopting  as  the  end  of  endeavor  that  atti- 
tude of  mind,  that  habit  of  thought,  which  we  call 
scientific.  This  scientific  attitude  of  mind  might,  con- 
ceivably, be  quite  irrelevant  to  teaching  children  and 
youth.  But  this  book  also  represents  the  conviction 
that  such  is  not  the  case  ;  that  the  native  and  unspoiled 
attitude  of  childhood,  marked  by  ardent  curiosity,  fertile 
imagination,  and  love  of  experimental  inquiry,  is  near, 
very  near,  to  the  attitude  of  the  scientific  mind.  If 
these  pages  assist  any  to  appreciate  this  kinship  and  to 
consider  seriously  how  its  recognition  in  educational 
practice  would  make  for  individual  happiness  and  the 
reduction  of  social  waste,  the  book  will  amply  have 
served  its  purpose. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  enumerate  the  authors  to 
whom  I  am  indebted.  My  fundamental  indebtedness 
is  to  my  wife,  by  whom  the  ideas  of  this  book  were 


1219253 


iv  PREFACE 

inspired,  and  through  whose  work  in  connection  with 
the  Laboratory  School,  existing  in  Chicago  between 
1896  and  1903,  the  ideas  attained  such  concreteness 
as  comes  from  embodiment  and  testing  in  practice.  It 
is  a  pleasure,  also,  to  acknowledge  indebtedness  to  the 
intelligence  and  sympathy  of  those  who  cooperated  as 
teachers  and  supervisors  in  the  conduct  of  that  school, 
and  especially  to  Mrs.  Ella  Flagg  Young,  then  a  col- 
league in  the  University,  and  now  Superintendent  of 
the  Schools  of  Chicago. 

NEW  YORK  CITY,  December,  1909. 


CONTENTS 

PART   I 
THE   PROBLEM   OF  TRAINING   THOUGHT 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    WHAT  is  THOUGHT? i 

II.  THE  NEED  FOR  TRAINING  THOUGHT        ...  14 

III.  NATURAL  RESOURCES  IN  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT  29 

IV.  SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT  45 
V.  THE  MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING:  THE 

PSYCHOLOGICAL  AND  THE  LOGICAL       ...      56 

PART   II 

LOGICAL  CONSIDERATIONS 

VI.  THE  ANALYSIS  OF  A  COMPLETE  ACT  OF  THOUGHT  .  68 
VII.  SYSTEMATIC  INFERENCE:    INDUCTION  AND   DEDUC- 
TION            79 

VIII.  JUDGMENT:   THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  FACTS  .        .  101 

IX.  MEANING:  OR  CONCEPTIONS  AND  UNDERSTANDING  .  116 

X.  CONCRETE  AND  ABSTRACT  THINKING        .        .        .  135 

XI.  EMPIRICAL  AND  SCIENTIFIC  THINKING      .        .        -145 

PART  III 
THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT 

XII.    ACTIVITY  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     .        .    157 
XIII.    LANGUAGE  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT  .        .170 

T 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGI 

XIV.     OBSERVATION  AND  INFORMATION  IN  THE  TRAINING 

OF  MIND l& 

XV.    THE  RECITATION  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT  201 

XVI.    SOME  GENERAL  CONCLUSIONS 2i/ 


HOW   WE   THINK 

PART   ONE:    THE    PROBLEM   OF 
TRAINING   THOUGHT 

CHAPTER   ONE 
WHAT  IS  THOUGHT? 

§  i.    Varied  Senses  of  the  Term 

No  words  are  oftener  on  our  lips  than  thinking  and  Four  senses 
thought.     So  profuse  and  varied,  indeed,  is  our  use  of 


these  words  that  it  is  not  easy  to  define  just  what  we  wider  to  the 
mean  by  them.  The  aim  of  this  chapter  is  to  find  a 
single  consistent  meaning.  Assistance  may  be  had  by 
considering  some  typical  ways  in  which  the  terms  are 
employed.  In  the  first  place  thought  is  used  broadly, 
not  to  say  loosely.  Everything  that  comes  to  mind, 
that  "goes  through  our  heads,"  is  called  a  thought.  To 
think  of  a  thing  is  just  to  be  conscious  of  it  in  any  way 
whatsoever.  Second,  the  term  is  restricted  by  excluding 
whatever  is  directly  presented;  we  think  (or  think  of) 
only  such  things  as  we  do  not  directly  see,  hear,  smell, 
or  taste.  Then,  third,  the  meaning  is  further  limited  to 
beliefs  that  rest  upon  some  kind  of  evidence  or  testi- 
mony. Of  this  third  type,  two  kinds — or,  rather,  two  de- 
grees— must  be  discriminated.  In  some  cases,  a  belief 
is  accepted  with  slight  or  almost  no  attempt  to  state 
the  grounds  that  support  it.  In  other  cases,  the  ground 
or  basis  for  a  belief  is  deliberately  sought  and  its 


HOW  WE  THINK 


Chance  and 
idle  thinking 


Reflective 
thought  is 
consecutive, 
not  merely 
a  sequence 


adequacy  to  support  the  belief  examined.  This  process 
is  called  reflective  thought  ;  it  alone  is  truly  educative  in 
value,  and  it  forms,  accordingly,  the  principal  subject  of 
this  volume.  We  shall  now  briefly  describe  each  of 
the  four  senses. 

I.  In  its  loosest  sense,  thinking  signifies  everything 
t^^  as  we  ga^  £g  ^  Qur  ^ads  "  or  that  "goes  through 
our  minds."  He  who  offers  "a  penny  for  your  thoughts  " 
does  not  expect  to  drive  any  great  bargain.  In  calling 
the  objects  of  his  demand  thoughts,  he  does  not  intend 
to  ascribe  to  them  dignity,  consecutiveness,  or  truth. 
Any  idle  fancy,  trivial  recollection,  or  flitting  impression 
will  satisfy  his  demand.  Daydreaming,  building  of 
castles  in  the  air,  that  loose  flux  of  casual  and  discon- 
nected material  that  floats  through  our  minds  in  relaxed 
moments  are,  in  this  random  sense,  thinking.  More  of 
our  waking  life  than  we  should  care  to  admit,  even  to 
ourselves,  is  likely  to  be  whiled  away  in  this  inconse- 
quential trifling  with  idle  fancy  and  unsubstantial  hope. 

In  this  sense,  silly  folk  and  dullards  think.  The  story 
*s  to^  °^  a  man  *n  s^&ht  repute  for  intelligence,  who, 
desiring  to  be  chosen  selectman  in  his  New  England 
town,  addressed  a  knot  of  neighbors  in  this  wise  :  "  I 
hear  you  don't  believe  I  know  enough  to  hold  office.  I 
wish  you  to  understand  that  I  am  thinking  about  some- 
thing or  other  most  of  the  time."  Now  reflective 
thought  is  like  this  random  coursing  of  things  through 
the  mind  in  that  it  consists  of  a  succession  of  things 
thought  of;  but  it  is  unlike,  in  that  the  mere  chance 
occurrence  of  any  chance  "something  or  other"  in 
an  irregular  sequence  does  not  suffice.  Reflection 
involves  not  simply  a  sequence  of  ideas,  but  a  con- 
sequence  —  a  consecutive  ordering  in  such  a  way  that 


WHAT   IS   THOUGHT?  3 

each  determines  the  next  as  its  proper  outcome,  while 
each  in  turn  leans  back  on  its  predecessors.  The  suc- 
cessive portions  of  the  reflective  thought  grow  out  of 
one  another  and  support  one  another;  they  do  not  come 
and  go  in  a  medley.  Each  phase  is  a  step  from  some- 
thing to  something  —  technically  speaking,  it  is  a  term 
of  thought.  Each  term  leaves  a  deposit  which  is  utilized 
in  the  next  term.  The  stream  or  flow  becomes  a  train, 
chain,  or  thread. 

II.    Even  when  thinking  is  used  in  a  broad  sense,  it  is  The  restric- 
usually  restricted  to  matters  not  directly  perceived:  to  ^jj^     to 
what  we  do  not  see,  smell,  hear,  or  touch.     We  ask  the  what  goes 
man  telling  a  story  if  he  saw  a  certain  incident  happen,  di^°°  obser.4 
and  his  reply  may  be,  "  No,  I  only  thought  of  it."     A  vation 
note  of  invention,  as  distinct  from  faithful  record  of 
observation,  is  present.     Most  important  in  this  class 
are  successions  of  imaginative  incidents  and  episodes 
which,  having  a  certain  coherence,  hanging  together  on 
a  continuous  thread,  lie  between  kaleidoscopic  flights  of 
fancy  and  considerations  deliberately  employed  to  estab- 
lish a  conclusion.     The  imaginative  stories  poured  forth 
by  children  possess  all  degrees  of  internal  congruity; 
some  are  disjointed,  some  are  articulated.     When  con- 
nected, they  simulate  reflective  thought;   indeed,  they 
usually   occur  in   minds    of    logical    capacity.      These 
imaginative  enterprises  often  precede  thinking  of  the 
close-knit  type  and  prepare  the  way  for  it.     But  they  Reflective 

do  not  aim  at  knowledge,  at  belief  about  facts  or  in  truths  ;  t^g^t 

.  aims,  how- 

and  thereby  they  are  marked  off  from  reflective  thought  ever,  at 
even  when  they  most  resemble  it.     Those  who  express  belief 
such  thoughts  do  not  expect  credence,  but  rather  credit 
for  a  well-constructed  plot  or  a  well-arranged  climax. 
They  produce  good  stories,  not  —  unless  by  chance  — 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Thought 
induces 
belief  in 
two  ways 


knowledge.  Such  thoughts  are  an  efflorescence  of 
feeling;  the  enhancement  of  a  mood  or  sentiment  is 
their  aim  ;  congruity  of  emotion,  their  binding  tie. 

III.  In  its  next  sense,  thought  denotes  belief  resting 
upon  some  basis,  that  is,  real  or  supposed  knowledge 
going  beyond  what  is  directly  present.  It  is  marked 
by  acceptance  or  rejection  of  something  as  reasonably  prob- 
able or  improbable.  This  phase  of  thought,  however, 
includes  two  such  distinct  types  of  belief  that,  even 
though  their  difference  is  strictly  one  of  degree,  not 
of  kind,  it  becomes  practically  important  to  consider 
them  separately.  Some  beliefs  are  accepted  when 
their  grounds  have  not  themselves  been  considered, 
others  are  accepted  because  their  grounds  have  been 
examined. 

When  we  say,  "  Men  used  to  think  the  world  was  flat," 
or,  "  I  thought  you  went  by  the  house,"  we  express  be- 
lief :  something  is  accepted,  held  to,  acquiesced  in,  or 
affirmed.  But  such  thoughts  may  mean  a  supposition 
accepted  without  reference  to  its  real  grounds.  These 
may  be  adequate,  they  may  not;  but  their  value  with 
reference  to  the  support  they  afford  the  belief  has  not 
been  considered. 

Such  thoughts  grow  up  unconsciously  and  without 
reference  to  the  attainment  of  correct  belief.  They  are 
picked  up  —  we  know  not  how.  From  obscure  sources 
and  by  unnoticed  channels  they  insinuate  themselves 
into  acceptance  and  become  unconsciously  a  part  of 
our  mental  furniture.  Tradition,  instruction,  imitation 
—  all  of  which  depend  upon  authority  in  some  form, 
or  appeal  to  our  own  advantage,  or  fall  in  with  a 
strong  passion  —  are  responsible  for  them.  Such 
thoughts  are  prejudices,  that  is,  prejudgments,  not 


WHAT    IS   THOUGHT?  5 

judgments   proper   that    rest    upon   a   survey  of    evi- 
dence.1 

IV.   Thoughts  that  result  in  belief  have  an  importance  Thinking 
attached   to   theni   which   leads   to   reflective  thought,  init8be^ 

'    sense  is  that 

to   conscious   inquiry   into   the  nature,  conditions,  and  which  con- 
bearings  of  the  belief.     To  think  of  whales  and  camels  JjJJJ^Jf 
in   the   clouds   is   to  entertain  ourselves  with  fancies,  conse- 
terminable  at  our  pleasure,  which   do  not  lead  to  any 
belief  in  particular.     But  to  think  of  the  world  as  flat  is 
to  ascribe  a  quality  to  a  real  thing  as  its  real  property. 
This  conclusion  denotes  a  connection  among  things  and 
hence   is  not,  like  imaginative  thought,  plastic  to  our 
mood.     Belief  in  the  world's  flatness  commits  him  who 
holds  it  to  thinking  in  certain  specific  ways  of   other 
objects,  such  as  the  heavenly  bodies,  antipodes,  the  possi- 
bility of  navigation.     It  prescribes  to  him  actions  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  conception  of  these  objects. 

The  consequences  of  a  belief  upon  other  beliefs  and 
upon  behavior  may  be  so  important,  then,  that  men  are 
forced  to  consider  the  grounds  or  reasons  of  their  belief 
and  its  logical  consequences.  This  means  reflective 
thought  —  thought  in  its  eulogistic  and  emphatic  sense. 

Men  thought  the  world  was  flat  until  Columbus  thought 
it  to  be  round.  The  earlier  thought  was  a  belief  held 
because  men  had  not  the  energy  or  the  courage  to  ques- 
tion what  those  about  them  accepted  and  taught, 
especially  as  it  was  suggested  and  seemingly  confirmed 
by  obvious  sensible  facts.  The  thought  of  Columbus 
was  a  reasoned  conclusion.  It  marked  the  close  of  study 
into  facts,  of  scrutiny  and  revision  of  evidence,  of  work- 
ing out  the  implications  of  various  hypotheses,  and  of 

1  This  mode  of  thinking  in  its  contrast  with  thoughtful  inquiry  receives 
special  notice  in  the  next  chapter. 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Reflective 

thought 

defined 


comparing  these  theoretical  results  with  one  another  and 
with  known  facts.  Because  Columbus  did  not  accept 
unhesitatingly  the  current  traditional  theory,  because  he 
doubted  and  inquired,  he  arrived  at  his  thought.  Skep- 
tical of  what,  from  long  habit,  seemed  most  certain,  and 
credulous  of  what  seemed  impossible,  he  went  on  thinking 
until  he  could  produce  evidence  for  both  his  confidence 
and  his  disbelief.  Even  if  his  conclusion  had  finally 
turned  out  wrong,  it  would  have  been  a  different  sort  of 
belief  from  those  it  antagonized,  because  it  was  reached 
by  a  different  method.  Active,  persistent,  and  careful  con- 
sideration of  any  belief  or  supposed  form  of  knowledge  in 
the  light  of  tJie  grounds  that  support  it,  and  the  further  con- 
clusions to  which  it  tends,  constitutes  reflective  thought. 
Any  one  of  the  first  three  kinds  of  thought  may  elicit 
this  type  ;  but  once  begun,  it  is  a  conscious  and  voluntary 
effort  to  establish  belief  upon  a  firm  basis  of  reasons. 

§  2.     The  Central  Factor  in  Thinking 

There  is  a          There  are,  however,  no  sharp  lines  of  demarcation 
common  eie-  between   the    various   operations    just    outlined.     The 

ment  in  all  J 

problem  of  attaining  correct  habits  of  reflection  would 
be  much  easier  than  it  is,  did  not  the  different  modes  of 
thinking  blend  insensibly  into  one  another.  So  far,  we 
have  considered  rather  extreme  instances  of  each  kind 
in  order  to  get  the  field  clearly  before  us.  Let  us  now 
reverse  this  operation;  let  us  consider  a  rudimentary 
case  of  thinking,  lying  between  careful  examination  of 
evidence  and  a  mere  irresponsible  stream  of  fancies.  A 
man  is  walking  on  a  warm  day.  The  sky  was  clear  the 
last  time  he  observed  it;  but  presently  he  notes,  while 
occupied  primarily  with  other  things,  that  the  air  is 
cooler.  It  occurs  to  him  that  it  is  probably  going  to 


types  of 
thought : 


WHAT   IS   THOUGHT?  7 

rain ;  looking  up,  he  sees  a  dark  cloud  between  him  and 
the  sun,  and  he  then  quickens  his  steps.  What,  if  any- 
thing, in  such  a  situation  can  be  called  thought  ?  Neither 
the  act  of  walking  nor  the  noting  of  the  cold  is  a  thought 
Walking  is  one  direction  of  activity;  looking  and  noting 
are  other  modes  of  activity.  The  likelihood  that  it  will 
rain  is,  however,  something  suggested.  The  pedestrian 
feels  the  cold;  he  thinks  of  clouds  and  a  coming 
shower. 

So  far  there  is  the  same  sort  of  situation  as  when  one  «**•  sngges. 
looking  at  a  cloud  is  reminded  of  a  human  figure  and  thing  not™* 
face.     Thinking  in  both  of  these  cases  (the  cases  of  be-  observed 
lief  and  of  fancy)  involves  a  noted  or  perceived  fact, 
followed  by  something  else  which  is  not  observed  but 
which  is  brought  to  mind,  suggested  by  the  thing  seen. 
One  reminds  us,  as  we  say,  of  the  other.     Side  by  side, 
however,  with  this  factor  of  agreement  in  the  two  cases 
of  suggestion  is  a  factor  of  marked  disagreement.     We 
do  not  believe  in  the  face  suggested  by  the  cloud;  we  do 
not  consider  at  all  the  probability  of  its  being  a  fact. 
There  is  no  reflective  thought.     The  danger  of  rain,  on 
the  contrary,  presents  itself  to  us  as  a  genuine  possibil- 
ity—  as  a  possible  fact  of  the  same  nature  as  the  ob- 
served coolness.     Put  differently,  we  do  not  regard  the 
cloud   as  meaning  or  indicating  a  face,  but  merely  as  Butreflec- 
suggesting  it,  while  we  do  consider  that  the  coolness  may  aisothe°  V 
mean  rain.     In  the  first  case,  seeing  an  object,  we  just  relation  of 

.  .  i  -1         signifying 

happen,  as  we  say,  to  think  of  something  else ;  in  the 
second,  we  consider  fat  possibility  and  nature  of  the  con- 
nection between  the  object  seen  and  the  object  suggested. 
The  seen  thing  is  regarded  as  in  some  way  the  ground  or 
basis  of  belief  in  the  suggested  thing ;  it  possesses  the 
quality  of  evidence. 


8 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Various 
synonymous 
expressions 
for  the 
function  of 
signifying 


Reflection 
and  belief 
on  evidence 


This  function  by  which  one  thing  signifies  or  indi- 
cates another,  and  thereby  leads  us  to  consider  how  far 
one  may  be  regarded  as  warrant  for  belief  in  the  other, 
is,  then,  the  central  factor  in  all  reflective  or  distinctively 
intellectual  thinking.  By  calling  up  various  situations  to 
which  such  terms  as  signifies  and  indicates  apply,  the  stu- 
dent will  best  realize  for  himself  the  actual  facts  denoted 
by  the  words  reflective  thought.  Synonyms  for  these 
terms  are :  points  to,  tells  of,  betokens,  prognosticates, 
represents,  stands  for,  implies.1  We  also  say  one  thing 
portends  another ;  is  ominous  of  another,  or  a  symptom 
of  it,  or  a  key  to  it,  or  (if  the  connection  is  quite  ob- 
scure) that  it  gives  a  hint,  clue,  or  intimation. 

Reflection  thus  implies  that  something  is  believed  in 
(or  disbelieved  in),  not  on  its  own  direct  account,  but 
through  something  else  which  stands  as  witness,  evi- 
dence, proof,  voucher,  warrant ;  that  is,  as  ground  of  be' 
lief.  At  one  time,  rain  is  actually  felt  or  directly  ex- 
perienced; at  another  time,  we  infer  that  it  has  rained 
from  the  looks  of  the  grass  and  trees,  or  that  it  is  going 
to  rain  because  of  the  condition  of  the  air  or  the  state  of 
the  barometer.  At  one  time,  we  see  a  man  (or  suppose 
we  do)  without  any  intermediary  fact ;  at  another  time, 
we  are  not  quite  sure  what  we  see,  and  hunt  for  accom- 
panying facts  that  will  serve  as  signs,  indications,  tokens 
of  what  is  to  be  believed. 

Thinking,  for  the  purposes  of  this  inquiry,  is  defined 
accordingly  as  that  operation  in  which  present  facts  sug- 
gest other  facts  (or  truths)  in  such  a  way  as  to  induce  be- 

1  Implies  is  more  often  used  when  a  principle  or  general  truth  brings 
about  belief  in  some  other  truth ;  the  other  phrases  are  more  frequently 
used  to  denote  the  cases  in  which  one  fact  or  event  leads  us  to  believe  in 
something  else. 


WHAT   IS   THOUGHT?  9 

lief  in  the  latter  upon  the  grotmd  or  warrant  of  the 
former.  We  do  not  put  beliefs  that  rest  simply  on 
inference  on  the  surest  level  of  assurance.  To  say 
"  I  think  so  "  implies  that  I  do  not  as  yet  know  so.  The 
inferential  belief  may  later  be  confirmed  and  come  to 
stand  as  sure,  but  in  itself  it  always  has  a  certain  ele- 
ment of  supposition. 

§  3.   Elements  in  Reflective  Thinking 

So  much  for  the  description  of  the  more  external  and 
obvious  aspects  of  the  fact  called  thinking.  Further- 
consideration  at  once  reveals  certain  subprocesses  which 
are  involved  in  every  reflective  operation.  These  are : 
(a)  a  state  of  perplexity,  hesitation,  doubt ;  and  (£)  an 
act  of  search  or  investigation  directed  toward  bringing 
to  light  further  facts  which  serve  to  corroborate  or  to 
nullify  the  suggested  belief. 

(a)  In  our  illustration,  the  shock  of  coolness  generated  The  impor- 
confusion  and  suspended  belief,  at  least  momentarily.  tance°f 

J      uncertainty 

Because  it  was  unexpected,  it  was  a  shock  or  an  interrup- 
tion needing  to  be  accounted  for,  identified,  or  placed. 
To  say  that  the  abrupt  occurrence  of  the  change  of  tem- 
perature constitutes  a  problem  may  sound  forced  and 
artificial ;  but  if  we  are  willing  to  extend  the  meaning 
of  the  word  problem  to  whatever  —  no  matter  how  slight 
and  commonplace  in  character  —  perplexes  and  chal- 
lenges the  mind  so  that  it  makes  belief  at  all  uncertain, 
there  is  a  genuine  problem  or  question  involved  in  this 
experience  of  sudden  change. 

(b}  The  turning  of  the  head,  the  lifting  of  the  eyes,  and  of 
the  scanning  of  the  heavens,  are  activities   adapted  to  ^q0"^, 
bring  to  recognition  facts  that  will  answer  the  question  to  test 
presented  by  the  sudden  coolness.     The  facts  as   they 


10 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Finding 
one's  way 
an  illustra- 
tion of 
reflection 


first  presented  themselves  were  perplexing ;  they  sug- 
gested, however,  clouds.  The  act  of  looking  was  an  act 
to  discover  if  this  suggested  explanation  held  good.  It 
may  again  seem  forced  to  speak  of  this  looking,  almost 
automatic,  as  an  act  of  research  or  inquiry.  But  once 
more,  if  we  are  willing  to  generalize  our  conceptions 
of  our  mental  operations  to  include  the  trivial  and 
ordinary  as  well  as  the  technical  and  recondite,  there 
is  no  good  reason  for  refusing  to  give  such  a  title  to 
the  act  of  looking.  The  purport  of  this  act  of  inquiry 
is  to  confirm  or  to  refute  the  suggested  belief.  New 
facts  are  brought  to  perception,  which  either  corrobo- 
rate the  idea  that  a  change  of  weather  is  imminent,  or 
negate  it. 

Another  instance,  commonplace  also,  yet  not  quite  so 
trivial,  may  enforce  this  lesson.  A  man  traveling  in  an 
unfamiliar  region  comes  to  a  branching  of  the  roads. 
Having  no  sure  knowledge  to  fall  back  upon,  he  is 
brought  to  a  standstill  of  hesitation  and  suspense. 
Which  road  is  right  ?  And  how  shall  perplexity  be 
resolved  ?  There  are  but  two  alternatives :  he  must 
either  blindly  and  arbitrarily  take  his  course,  trusting  to 
luck  for  the  outcome,  or  he  must  discover  grounds  for 
the  conclusion  that  a  given  road  is  right.  Any  attempt 
to  decide  the  matter  by  thinking  will  involve  inquiry 
into  other  facts,  whether  brought  out  by  memory  or  by 
further  observation,  or  by  both.  The  perplexed  way- 
farer must  carefully  scrutinize  what  is  before  him  and 
he  must  cudgel  his  memory.  He  looks  for  evidence 
that  will  support  belief  in  favor  of  either  of  the  roads 
—  for  evidence  that  will  weight  down  one  suggestion. 
He  may  climb  a  tree ;  he  may  go  first  in  this  direction, 
then  in  that,  looking,  in  either  case,  for  signs,  clues, 


WHAT   IS   THOUGHT?  II 

indications.  He  wants  something  in  the  nature  of  a 
signboard  or  a  map,  and  his  reflection  is  aimed  at  the 
discovery  of  facts  that  will  serve  this  purpose. 

The  above  illustration  may  be  generalized.     Think-  Possible, 
ing  begins  in  what  may  fairly  enough  be  called  a  forked-  ^*£&™™ 
road  situation,  a  situation  which  is  ambiguous,  which  suggestions 
presents  a  dilemma,  which  proposes  alternatives.     As 
long   as   our   activity  glides  smoothly  along  from  one 
thing  to  another,  or  as  long  as  we  permit  our  imagina- 
tion to  entertain  fancies  at  pleasure,  there  is  no  call  for 
reflection.      Difficulty    or    obstruction   in   the  way   of 
reaching  a  belief  brings  us,  however,  to  a  pause.     In 
the  suspense  of  uncertainty,  we  metaphorically  climb  a 
tree  ;  we  try  to  find  some  standpoint  from    which   we 
may  survey  additional  facts  and,  getting  a  more  com- 
manding view  of  the  situation,  may  decide  how  the  facts 
stand  related  to  one  another. 

Demand  for  the  solution  of  a  perplexity  is  the  steadying  Regulation 
and  guiding  factor  in  the  entire  process  of  reflection.  £  ^  Ing 
Where  there  is  no  question  of  a  problem  to  be  solved  purpose 
or  a  difficulty  to  be  surmounted,  the  course  of  suggestions 
flows  on  at  random ;  we  have  the  first  type  of  thought 
described.  If  the  stream  of  suggestions  is  controlled 
simply  by  their  emotional  congruity,  their  fitting  agree- 
ably into  a  single  picture  or  story,  we  have  the  second 
type.  But  a  question  to  be  answered,  an  ambiguity  to 
be  resolved,  sets  up  an  end  and  holds  the  current  of 
ideas  to  a  definite  channel.  Every  suggested  conclusion 
is  tested  by  its  reference  to  this  regulating  end,  by  its 
pertinence  to  the  problem  in  hand.  This  need  of 
straightening  out  a  perplexity  also  controls  the  kind  of 
inquiry  undertaken.  A  traveler  whose  end  is  the  most 
beautiful  path  will  look  for  other  considerations  and 


12  HOW  WE   THINK 

will  test  suggestions  occurring  to  him  on  another  prin- 
ciple than  if  he  wishes  to  discover  the  way  to  a  given 
city.  The  problem  fixes  the  end  of  thought  and  the  end 
controls  the  process  of  thinking. 

§  4.    Summary 

Origin  and  We  may  recapitulate  by  saying  that  the  origin  of 
thinking  is  some  perplexity,  confusion,  or  doubt.  Think- 
ing is  not  a  case  of  spontaneous  combustion ;  it  does 
not  occur  just  on  "general  principles."  There  is  some- 
thing specific  which  occasions  and  evokes  it.  General 
appeals  to  a  child  (or  to  a  grown-up)  to  think,  irrespec- 
tive of  the  existence  in  his  own  experience  of  some 
difficulty  that  troubles  him  and  disturbs  his  equilibrium, 
are  as  futile  as  advice  to  lift  himself  by  his  boot-straps. 

Suggestions  Given  a  difficulty,  the  next  step  is  suggestion  of 
some  waY  out  — the  formation  of  some  tentative  plan 
or  project,  the  entertaining  of  some  theory  which  will 
account  for  the  peculiarities  in  question,  the  considera- 
tion of  some  solution  for  the  problem.  The  data  at 
hand  cannot  supply  the  solution ;  they  can  only  suggest 
it.  What,  then,  are  the  sources  of  the  suggestion  ? 
Clearly  past  experience  and  prior  knowledge.  If  the 
person  has  had  some  acquaintance  with  similar  situations, 
if  he  has  dealt  with  material  of  the  same  sort  before, 
suggestions  more  or  less  apt  and  helpful  are  likely  to  arise. 
But  unless  there  has  been  experience  in  some  degree 
analogous,  which  may  now  be  represented  in  imagination, 
confusion  remains  mere  confusion.  There  is  nothing 
upon  which  to  draw  in  order  to  clarify  it.  Even  when 
a  child  (or  a  grown-up)  has  a  problem,  to  urge  him  to 
think  when  he  has  no  prior  experiences  involving  some 
of  the  same  conditions,  is  wholly  futile. 


WHAT  IS   THOUGHT?  13 

If  the  suggestion  that  occurs  is  at  once  accepted,  we  Exploration 
have  uncritical  thinking,  the  minimum  of  reflection.  To  and  testlng 
turn  the  thing  over  in  mind,  to  reflect,  means  to  hunt 
for  additional  evidence,  for  new  data,  that  will  de- 
velop the  suggestion,  and  will  either,  as  we  say,  bear  it 
out  or  else  make  obvious  its  absurdity  and  irrelevance. 
Given  a  genuine  difficulty  and  a  reasonable  amount  of 
analogous  experience  to  draw  upon,  the  difference,  par 
excellence,  between  good  and  bad  thinking  is  found  at 
this  point.  The  easiest  way  is  to  accept  any  suggestion 
that  seems  plausible  and  thereby  bring  to  an  end  the 
condition  of  mental  uneasiness.  Reflective  thinking  is 
always  more  or  less  troublesome  because  it  involves 
overcoming  the  inertia  that  inclines  one  to  accept  sug- 
gestions at  their  face  value ;  it  involves  willingness  to 
endure  a  condition  of  mental  unrest  and  disturbance. 
Reflective  thinking,  in  short,  means  judgment  suspended 
during  further  inquiry;  and  suspense  is  likely  to  be 
somewhat  painful.  As  we  shall  see  later,  the  most  im- 
portant factor  in  the  training  of  good  mental  habits 
consists  in  acquiring  the  attitude  of  suspended  conclu- 
sion, and  in  mastering  the  various  methods  of  searching 
for  new  materials  to  corroborate  or  to  refute  the  first 
suggestions  that  occur.  To  maintain  the  state  of  doubt 
and  to  carry  on  systematic  and  protracted  inquiry  — 
these  are  the  essentials  of  thinking. 


CHAPTER  TWO 


Man  the 
animal  that 
thinks 


The  possi- 
bility of 
deliberate 
and  in- 
tentional 
activity 


THE  NEED  FOR  TRAINING  THOUGHT 

To  expatiate  upon  the  importance  of  thought  would 
be  absurd.  The  traditional  definition  of  man  as  "  the 
thinking  animal "  fixes  thought  as  the  essential  difference 
between  man  and  the  brutes,  —  surely  an  important  mat- 
ter. More  relevant  to  our  purpose  is  the  question  how 
thought  is  important,  for  an  answer  to  this  question 
will  throw  light  upon  the  kind  of  training  thought  re- 
quires if  it  is  to  subserve  its  end. 

§  i.    The  Values  of  Thought 

I.  Thought  affords  the  sole  method  of  escape  from 
purely  impulsive  or  purely  routine  action.  A  being 
without  capacity  for  thought  is  moved  only  by  instincts 
and  appetites,  as  these  are  called  forth  by  outward  con- 
ditions and  by  the  inner  state  of  the  organism.  A  being 
thus  moved  is,  as  it  were,  pushed  from  behind.  This 
is  what  we  mean  by  the  blind  nature  of  brute  actions. 
The  agent  does  not  see  or  foresee  the  end  for  which  he 
is  acting,  nor  the  results  produced  by  his  behaving  in  one 
way  rather  than  in  another.  He  does  not  "  know  what 
he  is  about."  Where  there  is  thought,  things  present 
act  as  signs  or  tokens  of  things  not  yet  experienced.  A 
thinking  being  can,  accordingly,  act  on  the  basis  of  the 
absent  and  the  future.  Instead  of  being  pushed  into  a 
mode  of  action  by  the  sheer  urgency  of  forces,  whether 


THE   NEED   FOR  TRAINING  THOUGHT  15 

instincts  or  habits,  of  which  he  is  not  aware,  a  reflective 
agent  is  drawn  (to  some  extent  at  least)  to  action  by 
some  remoter  object  of  which  he  is  indirectly  aware. 

An  animal  without  thought  may  go  into  its  hole  when 
rain  threatens,  because  of  some  immediate  stimulus  to 
ite  organism.  A  thinking  agent  will  perceive  that  cer- 
tain given  facts  are  probable  signs  of  a  future  rain,  and 
will  take  steps  in  the  light  of  this  anticipated  future. 
To  plant  seeds,  to  cultivate  the  soil,  to  harvest  grain, 
are  intentional  acts,  possible  only  to  a  being  who  has 
learned  to  subordinate  the  immediately  felt  elements  of 
an  experience  to  those  values  which  these  hint  at  and  Natural 
prophesy.  Philosophers  have  made  much  of  the  phrases  ^^a  C° 
"book  of  nature,"  "language  of  nature."  Well,  it  is  in  language 
virtue  of  the  capacity  of  thought  that  given  things  are 
significant  of  absent  things,  and  that  nature  speaks  a 
language  which  may  be  interpreted.  To  a  being  who 
thinks,  things  are  records  of  their  past,  as  fossils  tell 
of  the  prior  history  of  the  earth,  and  are  prophetic  of 
their  future,  as  from  the  present  positions  of  heavenly 
bodies  remote  eclipses  are  foretold.  Shakespeare's 
"tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks,"  ex- 
presses literally  enough  the  power  superadded  to  exist- 
ences when  they  appeal  to  a  thinking  being.  Upon 
the  function  of  signification  depend  all  foresight,  all  in- 
telligent planning,  deliberation,  and  calculation. 

II.    By  thought  man  also  develops  and  arranges  arti-  Thepossi- 
ficial  signs  to  remind  him  in  advance  of  consequences,  temltize 
and  of  ways  of  securing  and  avoiding  them.    As  the  trait  foresight 
just  mentioned  makes  the  difference  between  savage  man 
and  brute,  so  this   trait  makes  the  difference  between 
civilized   man   and   savage.      A   savage  who  has  been 
shipwrecked  in  a  river  may  note  certain  things  which 


16  HOW  WE   THINK 

serve  him  as  signs  of  danger  in  the  future.  But  civilized 
man  deliberately  makes  such  signs ;  he  sets  up  in  ad- 
vance of  wreckage  warning  buoys,  and  builds  light- 
houses where  he  sees  signs  that  such  events  may  occur. 
A  savage  reads  weather  signs  with  great  expertness; 
civilized  man  institutes  a  weather  service  by  which  signs 
are  artificially  secured  and  information  is  distributed  in 
advance  of  the  appearance  of  any  signs  that  could  be 
detected  without  special  methods.  A  savage  finds  his 
way  skillfully  through  a  wilderness  by  reading  certain 
obscure  indications ;  civilized  man  builds  a  highway 
which  shows  the  road  to  all.  The  savage  learns  to 
detect  the  signs  of  fire  and  thereby  to  invent  methods 
of  producing  flame ;  civilized  man  invents  permanent 
conditions  for  producing  light  and  heat  whenever  they 
are  needed.  The  very  essence  of  civilized  culture  is 
that  we  deliberately  erect  monuments  and  memorials, 
lest  we  forget ;  and  deliberately  institute,  in  advance  of 
the  happening  of  various  contingencies  and  emergencies 
of  life,  devices  for  detecting  their  approach  and  regis- 
tering their  nature,  for  warding  off  what  is  unfavorable, 
or  at  least  for  protecting  ourselves  from  its  full  impact 
and  for  making  more  secure  and  extensive  what  is  favor- 
able. All  forms  of  artificial  apparatus  are  intentionally 
designed  modifications  of  natural  things  in  order  that 
they  may  serve  better  than  in  their  natural  estate  to  in- 
dicate the  hidden,  the  absent,  and  the  remote. 
Thepossi-  III.  Finally,  thought  confers  upon  physical  events 
otTects'rich  anc*  o^Jects  a  verv  different  status  and  value  from  that 
in  quality  which  they  possess  to  a  being  that  does  not  reflect. 
These  words  are  mere  scratches,  curious  variations  of 
light  and  shade,  to  one  to  whom  they  are  not  linguistic 
signs.  To  him  for  whom  they  are  signs  of  other  things, 


THE   NEED  FOR   TRAINING   THOUGHT  17 

each  has  a  definite  individuality  of  its  own,  according  to 
the  meaning  that  it  is  used  to  convey.  Exactly  the  same 
holds  of  natural  objects.  A  chair  is  a  different  object 
to  a  being  to  whom  it  consciously  suggests  an  oppor- 
tunity for  sitting  down,  repose,  or  sociable  converse,  from 
what  it  is  to  one  to  whom  it  presents  itself  merely  as  a 
thing  to  be  smelled,  or  gnawed,  or  jumped  over;  a 
stone  is  different  to  one  who  knows  something  of  its 
past  history  and  its  future  use  from  what  it  is  to  one 
who  only  feels  it  directly  through  his  senses.  It  is  only 
by  courtesy,  indeed,  that  we  can  say  that  an  unthinking 
animal  experiences  an  object  at  all  —  so  largely  is  any- 
thing that  presents  itself  to  us  as  an  object  made  up 
by  the  qualities  it  possesses  as  a  sign  of  other  things. 

An  English  logician  (Mr.  Venn)  has  remarked  that  it  The  nature 
may  be  questioned  whether  a  dog  sees  a  rainbow  any  ^animaT* 
more  than  he  apprehends  the  political  constitution  of  perceives 
the  country  in  which  he  lives.  The  same  principle  ap- 
plies to  the  kennel  in  which  he  sleeps  and  the  meat  that 
he  eats.  When  he  is  sleepy,  he  goes  to  the  kennel ; 
when  he  is  hungry,  he  is  excited  by  the  smell  and  color  of 
meat;  beyond  this,  in  what  sense  does  he  see  an  object? 
Certainly  he  does  not  see  a  house  —  i.e.  a  thing  with  all 
the  properties  and  relations  of  a  permanent  residence, 
unless  he  is  capable  of  making  what  is  present  a  uniform 
sign  of  what  is  absent  —  unless  he  is  capable  of  thought. 
Nor  does  he  see  what  he  eats  as  meat  unless  it  suggests 
the  absent  properties  by  virtue  of  which  it  is  a  certain 
joint  of  some  animal,  and  is  known  to  afford  nourish- 
ment. Just  what  is  left  of  an  object  stripped  of  all 
such  qualities  of  meaning,  we  cannot  well  say;  but 
we  can  be  sure  that  the  object  is  then  a  very  different 
sort  of  thing  from  the  objects  that  we  perceive.  There 


18 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Mill  on  the 
business  of 
life  and  the 
occupation 
of  mind 


Thinking 
goes  astray 


is  moreover  no  particular  limit  to  the  possibilities  of 
growth  in  the  fusion  of  a  thing  as  it  is  to  sense  and  as  it 
is  to  thought,  or  as  a  sign  of  other  things.  The  child  to- 
day soon  regards  as  constituent  parts  of  objects  qualities 
that  once  it  required  the  intelligence  of  a  Copernicus  or 
a  Newton  to  apprehend. 

These  various  values  of  the  power  of  thought  may  be 
summed  up  in  the  following  quotation  from  John  Stuart 
Mill.  "To  draw  inferences,"  he  says,  "has  been  said 
to  be  the  great  business  of  life.  Every  one  has  daily, 
hourly,  and  momentary  need  of  ascertaining  facts  which 
he  has  not  directly  observed  :  not  from  any  general  pur- 
pose of  adding  to  his  stock  of  knowledge,  but  because 
the  facts  themselves  are  of  importance  to  his  interests 
or  to  his  occupations.  The  business  of  the  magistrate, 
of  the  military  commander,  of  the  navigator,  of  the 
physician,  of  the  agriculturist,  is  merely  to  judge  of 
e^'idence  and  to  act  accordingly.  .  .  .  As  they  do  this 
well  or  ill,  so  they  discharge  well  or  ill  the  duties  of 
their  several  callings.  It  is  the  only  occupation  in  which 
the  mind  never  ceases  to  be  engaged."  J 

§  2.     Importance  of  Direction  in  order  to  Realize  these 

Values 

What  a  person  has  not  only  daily  and  hourly,  but 
momentary  need  of  performing,  is  not  a  technical  and 
abstruse  matter ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  it  trivial  and 
negligible.  Such  a  function  must  be  congenial  to  the 
mind,  and  must  be  performed,  in  an  unspoiled  mind, 
upon  every  fitting  occasion.  Just  because,  however,  it 
is  an  operation  of  drawing  inferences,  of  basing  conclu- 
sions upon  evidence,  of  reaching  belief  indirectly,  it  is 

1  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  Introduction,  §  5. 


THE   NEED   FOR  TRAINING   THOUGHT  19 

an  operation  that  may  go  wrong  as  well  as  right,  and 
hence  is  one  that  needs  safeguarding  and  training.  The 
greater  its  importance  the  greater  are  the  evils  when  it 
is  ill-exercised. 

An  earlier  writer  than  Mill,  John  Locke  (1632-1704),  ideas  are 
brings  out  the  importance  of  thought  for  life  and  the  f^^^t~> 
need  of  training  so  that  its  best  and  not  its  worst  or  for  worse 
possibilities  will  be  realized,  in  the  following  words : 
"  No  man  ever  sets  himself  about  anything  but  upon 
some  view  or  other,  which  serves  him  for  a  reason  for 
what  he  does ;  and  whatsoever  faculties  he  employs,  the 
understanding  with  such  light  as  it  has,  well  or  ill  in- 
formed, constantly  leads;  and  by  that  light,  true  or  false, 
all  his  operative  powers  are  directed.  .  .  .  Temples 
have  their  sacred  images,  and  we  see  what  influence  they 
have  always  had  over  a  great  part  of  mankind.  But  in 
truth  the  ideas  and  images  in  men's  minds  are  the 
invisible  powers  that  constantly  govern  them,  and  to 
these  they  all,  universally,  pay  a  ready  submission.  It 
is  therefore  of  the  highest  concernment  that  great  care 
should  be  taken  of  the  understanding,  to  conduct  it 
aright  in  the  search  of  knowledge  and  in  the  judgments  it 
makes."  l  If  upon  thought  hang  all  deliberate  activities 
and  the  uses  we  make  of  all  our  other  powers,  Locke's 
assertion  that  it  is  of  the  highest  concernment  that  care 
should  be  taken  of  its  conduct  is  a  moderate  statement. 
While  the  power  of  thought  frees  us  from  servile  sub- 
jection to  instinct,  appetite,  and  routine,  it  also  brings 
with  it  the  occasion  and  possibility  of  error  and  mistake. 
In  elevating  us  above  the  brute,  it  opens  to  us  the  pos- 
sibility of  failures  to  which  the  animal,  limited  to  in- 
stinct, cannot  sink. 

1  Locke,  Of  the  Conduct  of  (At  Understanding,  first  paragraph. 


2O 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Physical  and 
social  sanc- 
tions of  cor- 
rect thinking 


The  serious 
limitations 
of  such 
sanctions 


§  3.      Tendencies  Needing  Constant  Regulation 

Up  to  a  certain  point,  the  ordinary  conditions  of  life, 
natural  and  social,  provide  the  conditions  requisite  for 
regulating  the  operations  of  inference.  The  necessities 
of  life  enforce  a  fundamental  and  persistent  discipline 
for  which  the  most  cunningly  devised  artifices  would  be 
ineffective  substitutes.  The  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire ; 
the  painful  consequence  emphasizes  the  need  of  correct 
inference  much  more  than  would  learned  discourse  on 
the  properties  of  heat.  Social  conditions  also  put  a  pre- 
mium on  correct  inferring  in  matters  where  action  based 
on  valid  thought  is  socially  important.  These  sanctions 
of  proper  thinking  may  affect  life  itself,  or  at  least  a 
life  reasonably  free  from  perpetual  discomfort.  The 
signs  of  enemies,  of  shelter,  of  food,  of  the  main  social 
conditions,  have  to  be  correctly  apprehended. 

But  this  disciplinary  training,  efficacious  as  it  is  within 
certain  limits,  does  not  carry  us  beyond  a  restricted 
boundary.  Logical  attainment  in  one  direction  is  no 
bar  to  extravagant  conclusions  in  another.  A  savage 
expert  in  judging  signs  of  the  movements  and  location 
of  animals  that  he  hunts,  will  accept  and  gravely  narrate 
the  most  preposterous  yarns  concerning  the  origin  of 
their  habits  and  structures.  When  there  is  no  directly 
appreciable  reaction  of  the  inference  upon  the  security 
and  prosperity  of  life,  there  are  no  natural  checks  to 
the  acceptance  of  wrong  beliefs.  Conclusions  may  be 
generated  by  a  modicum  of  fact  merely  because  the  sug- 
gestions are  vivid  and  interesting ;  a  large  accumulation 
of  data  may  fail  to  suggest  a  proper  conclusion  because 
existing  customs  are  averse  to  entertaining  it.  Inde- 
pendent of  training,  there  is  a  "  primitive  credulity  " 


THE  NEED   FOR   TRAINING  THOUGHT  21 

which  tends  to  make  no  distinction  between  what  a 
trained  mind  calls  fancy  and  that  which  it  calls  a  rea- 
sonable conclusion.  The  face  in  the  clouds  is  believed 
in  as  some  sort  of  fact,  merely  because  it  is  forcibly 
suggested.  Natural  intelligence  is  no  barrier  to  the 
propagation  of  error,  nor  large  but  untrained  experience 
to  the  accumulation  of  fixed  false  beliefs.  Errors  may 
support  one  another  mutually  and  weave  an  ever  larger 
and  firmer  fabric  of  misconception.  Dreams,  the  posi- 
tions of  stars,  the  lines  of  the  hand,  may  be  regarded  as 
valuable  signs,  and  the  fall  of  cards  as  an  inevitable 
omen,  while  natural  events  of  the  most  crucial  signifi- 
cance go  disregarded.  Beliefs  in  portents  of  various 
kinds,  now  mere  nook  and  cranny  superstitions,  were 
once  universal.  A  long  discipline  in  exact  science  was 
required  for  their  conquest. 

In  the  mere  function  of  suggestion,  there  is  no  differ-  Superstition 
ence  between  the  power  of  a  column  of  mercury  to  por-  a^g**"*1 
tend  rain,  and  that  of  the  entrails  of  an  animal  or  the  as  science 
flight  of  birds  to  foretell  the  f c  rtunes  of  war.  For  all 
anybody  can  tell  in  advance,  the  spilling  of  salt  is  as 
likely  to  import  bad  luck  as  the  bite  of  a  mosquito  to 
import  malaria.  Only  systematic  regulation  of  the  con- 
ditions under  which  observations  are  made  and  severe 
discipline  of  the  habits  of  entertaining  suggestions  can 
secure  a  decision  that  one  type  of  belief  is  vicious  and 
the  other  sound.  The  substitution  of  scientific  for 
superstitious  habits  of  inference  has  not  been  brought 
about  by  any  improvement  in  the  acuteness  of  the 
senses  or  in  the  natural  workings  of  the  function  of 
suggestion.  It  is  the  result  of  regulation  of  the  condi- 
tions under  which  observation  and  inference  take 
place. 


22  HOW  WE   THINK 

General  It  is  instructive  to  note  some  of  the  attempts  that 

badThink-  ^ave  ^een  ma-de  to  classify  the  main  sources  of  error  in 
ing  .-Bacon's  reaching  beliefs.  Francis  Bacon,  for  example,  at  the 
beginnings  of  modern  scientific  inquiry,  enumerated 
four  such  classes,  under  the  somewhat  fantastic  title  of 
"idols"  (Gr.  etSeoXa,  images),  spectral  forms  that  allure 
the  mind  into  false  paths.  These  he  called  the  idols,  or 
phantoms,  of  the  (a)  tribe,  (6)  the  market-place,  (c)  the 
cave  or  den,  and  (d}  the  theater;  or,  less  metaphorically, 
(a)  standing  erroneous  methods  (or  at  least  temptations 
to  error)  that  have  their  roots  in  human  nature  gener- 
ally ;  (b)  those  that  come  from  intercourse  and  language ; 
(c)  those  that  are  due  to  causes  peculiar  to  a  specific 
individual ;  and  finally,  (d}  those  that  have  their  sources 
in  the  fashion  or  general  current  of  a  period.  Classify- 
ing these  causes  of  fallacious  belief  somewhat  differently, 
we  may  say  that  two  are  intrinsic  and  two  are  extrinsic. 
Of  the  intrinsic,  one  is  common  to  all  men  alike  (such 
as  the  universal  tendency  to  notice  instances  that  cor- 
roborate a  favorite  belief  more  readily  than  those  that 
contradict  it),  while  the  other  resides  in  the  specific 
temperament  and  habits  of  the  given  individual.  Of 
the  extrinsic,  one  proceeds  from  generic  social  condi- 
tions —  like  the  tendency  to  suppose  that  there  is  a 
fact  wherever  there  is  a  word,  and  no  fact  where  there 
is  no  linguistic  term  —  while  the  other  proceeds  from 
local  and  temporary  social  currents. 

Locke  on  the  Locke's  method  of  dealing  with  typical  forms  of 
influence  of  wrong  beiief  js  \QSS  formal  and  may  be  more  enlight- 
ening. We  can  hardly  do  better  than  quote  his  forcible 
and  quaint  language,  when,  enumerating  different  classes 
of  men,  he  shows  different  ways  in  which  thought  goes 
wrong : 


THE   NEED   FOR   TRAINING   THOUGHT  23 

1.  "The  first  is  of  those  who  seldom  reason  at  all,   O)  depend 
but  do  and  think  according  to  the  example  of  others,  *£bet* 
whether  parents,  neighbors,  ministers,  or  who  else  they 

are  pleased  to  make  choice  of  to  have  an  implicit  faith 
in,  for  the  saving  of  themselves  the  pains  and  troubles 
of  thinking  and  examining  for  themselves." 

2.  "This  kind  is  of  those  who  put  passion  in  the   (&)  self- 
place  of   reason,  and  being  resolved  that  shall  govern         !8  ' 
their  actions  and  arguments,  neither  use  their  own,  nor 
hearken  to  other  people's  reason,  any  farther  than  it 

suits  their  humor,  interest,  or  party."1 

3.  "  The  third  sort  is  of  those  who  readily  and  sin-  (c)  circon*. 

cerely  follow  reason,  but  for  want  of  having  that  which  scnbe.d 

*  expenenc« 

one  may  call  large,  sound,  roundabout  sense,  have  not 
a  full  view  of  all  that  relates  to  the  question.  .  .  .  They 
converse  but  with  one  sort  of  men,  they  read  but  one 
sort  of  books,  they  will  not  come  in  the  hearing  but  of 
one  sort  of  notions.  .  .  .  They  have  a  pretty  traffic 
with  known  correspondents  in  some  little  creek  .  .  . 
but  will  not  venture  out  into  the  great  ocean  of  knowl- 
edge." Men  of  originally  equal  natural  parts  may 
finally  arrive  at  very  different  stores  of  knowledge  and 
truth,  "  when  all  the  odds  between  them  has  been  the 
different  scope  that  has  been  given  to  their  understand- 
ings to  range  in,  for  the  gathering  up  of  information 
and  furnishing  their  heads  with  ideas  and  notions  and 
observations,  whereon  to  employ  their  mind."2 

1  In  another  place  he  says :  "  Men's  prejudices  and  inclinations  impose 
often  upon  themselves.  .  .  .  Inclination  suggests  and  slides  into  dis- 
course favorable  terms,  which  introduce  favorable  ideas;  till  at  last  by 
this  means  that  is  concluded  clear  and  evident,  thus  dressed  up,  which, 
taken  in  its  native  state,  by  making  use  of  none  but  precise  determined 
ideas,  would  find  no  admittance  at  all." 

8  Tht  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,  §  3. 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Effect  of 
dogmatic 
principles, 


of  closed 
minds, 


In  another  portion  of  his  writings,1  Locke  states  the 
same  ideas  in  slightly  different  form. 

1.  "  That  which  is  inconsistent  with  our  principles  is 
so  far  from  passing  for  probable  with  us  that  it  will 
not  be  allowed  possible.     The  reverence  borne  to  these 
principles  is  so  great,  and  their  authority  so  paramount 
to  all  other,  that  the  testimony,  not  only  of  other  men, 
but  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses  are  often  rejected, 
when  they  offer  to  vouch  anything  contrary  to  these  es- 
tablished rules.  .  .  .     There  is  nothing  more  ordinary 
than  children's  receiving  into  their  minds  propositions 
.  .  .  from  their  parents,  nurses,  or  those  about  them; 
which  being  insinuated  in  their  unwary  as  well  as  un- 
biased understandings,  and  fastened  by  degrees,  are  at 
last  (and  this  whether  true  or  false)  riveted  there  by 
long  custom  and  education,   beyond  all  possibility  of 
being  pulled  out  again.    For  men,  when  they  are  grown 
up,  reflecting  upon  their  opinions  and  finding  those  of 
this  sort  to  be  as  ancient  in  their  minds  as  their  very 
memories,  not  having  observed  their  early  insinuation, 
nor  by  what  means  they  got  them,  they  are  apt  to  rever- 
ence them  as  sacred  things,  and  not  to  suffer  them  to  be 
profaned,  touched,  or  questioned."     They  take  them  as 
standards   "to  be  the  great  and  unerring  deciders  of 
truth  and  falsehood,  and  the  judges  to  which  they  are 
to  appeal  in  all  manner  of  controversies." 

2.  "  Secondly,  next  to  these  are  men  whose  under- 
standings are  cast  into  a  mold,  and  fashioned  just  to 
the  size  of  a  received  hypothesis."     Such  men,  Locke 
goes  on  to  say,  while  not  denying  the  existence  of  facts 
and  evidence,  cannot  be  convinced  by  the  evidence  that 

1  Essay   Concerning  Hitman    Understanding,   bk.  IV,  ch.  XX,   "Of 
Wrong  Assent  or  Error." 


THE   NEED   FOR  TRAINING  THOUGHT  2$ 

would  decide  them  if  their  minds  were  not  so  closed 
by  adherence  to  fixed  belief. 

3.  "Predominant   Passions.     Thirdly,    probabilities  of  strong 
which  cross   men's  appetites  and    prevailing   passions  Pa88Ion> 
run  the  same  fate.     Let  ever  so  much  probability  hang 

on  one  side  of  a  covetous  man's  reasoning,  and  money 
on  the  other,  it  is  easy  to  foresee  which  will  outweigh. 
Earthly  minds,  like  mud  walls,  resist  the  strongest 
batteries. 

4.  "  Authority.     The  fourth  and  last  wrong  measure  of  depend- 
of  probability  I  shall  take  notice  of,  and  which  keeps  in  *™horit°n 
ignorance   or  error   more  people   than   all   the  others  of  others 
together,  is  the  giving  up   our  assent  to  the  common 
received  opinions,  either  of  our  friends  or  party,  neigh- 
borhood or  country." 

Both  Bacon  and  Locke  make  it  evident  that  over  and  Causes  of 
above  the  sources  of  misbelief  that  reside  in  the  natural  habitsfare1 
tendencies  of  the  individual  (like  those  toward  hasty  social  as 
and  too  far-reaching  conclusions),  social  conditions  tend 
to  instigate  and  confirm  wrong  habits  of  thinking  by 
authority,  by  conscious  instruction,  and  by  the  even 
more  insidious  half-conscious  influences  of  language, 
imitation,  sympathy,  and  suggestion.  Education  has 
accordingly  not  only  to  safeguard  an  individual  against 
the  besetting  erroneous  tendencies  of  his  own  mind  — 
its  rashness,  presumption,  and  preference  of  what  chimes 
with  self-interest  to  objective  evidence  —  but  also  to 
undermine  and  destroy  the  accumulated  and  self-per- 
petuating prejudices  of  long  ages.  When  social  life 
in  general  has  become  more  reasonable,  more  imbued 
with  rational  conviction,  and  less  moved  by  stiff  authority 
and  blind  passion,  educational  agencies  may  be  more 
positive  and  constructive  than  at  present,  for  they  will 


26  HOW  WE  THINK 

work  in  harmony  with  the  educative  influence  exercised 
willy-nilly  by  other  social  surroundings  upon  an  individ- 
ual's habits  of  thought  and  belief.  At  present,  the 
work  of  teaching  must  not  only  transform  natural  ten- 
dencies into  trained  habits  of  thought,  but  must  also 
fortify  the  mind  against  irrational  tendencies  current  in 
the  social  environment,  and  help  displace  erroneous 
habits  already  produced. 

§  4.  Regulation  Transforms  Inference  into  Proof 
A  leap  is  Thinking  is  important  because,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is 

*kat  functi°n  in  which  given  or  ascertained  facts  stand 
for  or  indicate  others  which  are  not  directly  ascertained. 
But  the  process  of  reaching  the  absent  from  the  present 
is  peculiarly  exposed  to  error;  it  is  liable  to  be  influ- 
enced by  almost  any  number  of  unseen  and  unconsid- 
ered  causes,  —  past  experience,  received  dogmas,  the 
stirring  of  self-interest,  the  arousing  of  passion,  sheer 
mental  laziness,  a  social  environment  steeped  in  biased 
traditions  or  animated  by  false  expectations,  and  so 
on.  The  exercise  of  thought  is,  in  the  literal  sense  of 
that  word,  inference  ;  by  it  one  thing  carries  us  over  to 
the  idea  of,  and  belief  in,  another  thing.  It  involves  a 
jump,  a  leap,  a  going  beyond  what  is  surely  known  to 
something  else  accepted  on  its  warrant.  Unless  one 
is  an  idiot,  one  simply  cannot  help  having  all  things 
and  events  suggest  other  things  not  actually  present, 
nor  can  one  help  a  tendency  to  believe  in  the  latter 
on  the  basis  of  the  former.  The  very  inevitableness 
of  the  jump,  the  leap,  to  something  unknown,  only 
emphasizes  the  necessity  of  attention  to  the  conditions 
under  which  it  occurs  so  that  the  danger  of  a  false  step 
may  be  lessened  and  the  probability  of  a  right  landing 
increased. 


THE   NEED   FOR   TRAINING  THOUGHT  27 


Such  attention  consists  in  regulation  (i)  of  the  con-  Hence, the 
ditions  under  which  the  function  of  suggestion  takes  °aeteio°  regu 
place,  and  (2)  of  the  conditions  under  which  credence  is  which,  when 
yielded  to  the  suggestions  that  occur.  Inference  con- 
trolled  in  these  two  ways  (the  study  of  which  in  detail 
constitutes  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  this  book)  forms 
proof.  To  prove  a  thing  means  primarily  to  try,  to 
test  it.  The  guest  bidden  to  the  wedding  feast  excused 
himself  because  he  had  to  prove  his  oxen.  Exceptions 
are  said  to  prove  a  rule ;  i.e.  they  furnish  instances  so 
extreme  that  they  try  in  the  severest  fashion  its  applica- 
bility ;  if  the  rule  will  stand  such  a  test,  there  is  no  good 
reason  for  further  doubting  it.  Not  until  a  thing  has 
been  tried  —  "tried  out,"  in  colloquial  language  —  do 
we  know  its  true  worth.  Till  then  it  may  be  pretense, 
a  bluff.  But  the  thing  that  has  come  out  victorious  in 
a  test  or  trial  of  strength  carries  its  credentials  with  it ; 
it  is  approved,  because  it  has  been  proved.  Its  value  is 
clearly  evinced,  shown,  i.e.  demonstrated.  So  it  is  with 
inferences.  The  mere  fact  that  inference  in  general  is 
an  invaluable  function  does  not  guarantee,  nor  does  it 
even  help  out  the  correctness  of  any  particular  inference. 
Any  inference  may  go  astray ;  and  as  we  have  seen, 
there  are  standing  influences  ever  ready  to  assist  its 
going  wrong.  What  is  important,  is  that  every  inference 
shall  be  a  tested  inference ;  or  (since  often  this  is  not 
possible)  that  we  shall  discriminate  between  beliefs  that 
rest  upon  tested  evidence  and  those  that  do  not,  and  shall 
be  accordingly  on  our  guard  as  to  the  kind  and  degree  of 
assent  yielded. 

While  it  is  not  the   business  of   education  to  prove  The  office  of 
every  statement  made,  any  more  than  to  teach  every  j^^L 
possible  item  of  information,  it  is  its  business  to  culti-  •tilled 


28  HOW   WE   THINK 

powers  of  vate  deep-seated  and  effective  habits  of  discriminat- 
thinking  jng  tested  beliefs  from  mere  assertions,  guesses,  and 
opinions ;  to  develop  a  lively,  sincere,  and  open-minded 
preference  for  conclusions  that  are  properly  grounded, 
and  to  ingrain  into  the  individual's  working  habits 
methods  of  inquiry  and  reasoning  appropriate  to  the 
various  problems  that  present  themselves.  No  matter 
how  much  an  individual  knows  as  a  matter  of  hearsay 
and  information,  if  he  has  not  attitudes  and  habits  of 
this  sort,  he  is  not  intellectually  educated.  He  lacks  the 
rudiments  of  mental  discipline.  And  since  these  habits 
are  not  a  gift  of  nature  (no  matter  how  strong  the  ap- 
titude for  acquiring  them) ;  since,  moreover,  the  casual 
circumstances  of  the  natural  and  social  environment 
are  not  enough  to  compel  their  acquisition,  the  main 
office  of  education  is  to  supply  conditions  that  make  for 
their  cultivation.  The  formation  of  these  habits  is  the 
Training  of  Mind. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

NATURAL  RESOURCES  IN  THE  TRAINING  OF 
THOUGHT 

IN  the  last  chapter  we  considered  the  need  of  trans- 
forming, through  training,  the  natural  capacities  of  in- 
ference into  habits  of  critical  examination  and  inquiry. 
The  very  importance  of  thought  for  life  makes  necessary 
its  control  by  education  because  of  its  natural  tendency 
to  go  astray,  and  because  social  influences  exist  that  tend 
to  form  habits  of  thought  leading  to  inadequate  and 
erroneous  beliefs.  Training  must,  however,  be  itself  Only  native 

based  upon  the  natural  tendencies,  —  that  is,  it  must  find  P°Yer.s  ^ 

be  trained. 

its  point  of  departure  in  them.  A  being  who  could  not 
think  without  training  could  never  be  trained  to  think  ; 
one  may  have  to  learn  to  think  well,  but  not  to  think. 
Training,  in  short,  must  fall  back  upon  the  prior  and 
independent  existence  of  natural  powers  ;  it  is  con- 
cerned with  their  proper  direction,  not  with  creating 
them. 

Teaching  and  learning  are  correlative  or  correspond- 
ing processes,  as  much  so  as  selling  and  buying.  One 
might  as  well  say  he  has  sold  when  no  one  has  bought, 
as  to  say  that  he  has  taught  when  no  one  has  learned. 
And  in  the  educational  transaction,  the  initiative  lies  Hence,  the 


with  the  learner  even  more  than  in  commerce  it  lies  with  one 

must  take 

the  buyer.     If  an  individual  can  learn  to  think  only  in  theinitiatiye 
the  sense  of  learning  to  employ  more  economically  and 

29 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Three 

important 

natural 

resources 


Desire  for 
fullness  of 
experience : 


effectively  powers  he  already  possesses,  even  more  truly 
one  can  teach  others  to  think  only  in  the  sense  of  ap- 
pealing to  and  fostering  powers  already  active  in  them. 
Effective  appeal  of  this  kind  is  impossible  unless  the 
teacher  has  an  insight  into  existing  habits  and  tenden- 
cies, the  natural  resources  with  which  he  has  to  ally 
himself. 

Any  inventory  of  the  items  of  this  natural  capital  is 
somewhat  arbitrary  because  it  must  pass  over  many  of 
the  complex  details.  But  a  statement  of  the  factors 
essential  to  thought  will  put  before  us  in  outline  the 
main  elements.  Thinking  involves  (as  we  have  seen) 
the  suggestion  of  a  conclusion  for  acceptance,  and  also 
search  or  inquiry  to  test  the  value  of  the  suggestion  be- 
fore finally  accepting  it.  This  implies  (a)  a  certain  fund 
or  store  of  experiences  and  facts  from  which  sugges- 
tions proceed;  (£)  promptness,  flexibility,  and  fertility 
of  suggestions ;  and  (c)  orderliness,  consecutiveness, 
appropriateness  in  what  is  suggested.  Clearly,  a  person 
may  be  hampered  in  any  of  these  three  regards  :  His 
thinking  may  be  irrelevant,  narrow,  or  crude  because 
he  has  not  enough  actual  material  upon  which  to  base 
conclusions;  or  because  concrete  facts  and  raw  material, 
even  if  extensive  and  bulky,  fail  to  evoke  suggestions 
easily  and  richly ;  or  finally,  because,  even  when  these 
two  conditions  are  fulfilled,  the  ideas  suggested  are  in- 
coherent and  fantastic,  rather  than  pertinent  and  con- 
sistent. 

§  i.     Curiosity 

The  most  vital  and  significant  factor  in  supplying  the 
primary  material  whence  suggestion  may  issue  is,  with- 
out doubt,  curiosity.  The  wisest  of  the  Greeks  used  to 


NATURAL   RESOURCES   IN   TRAINING   THOUGHT       31 

say  that  wonder  is  the  mother  of  all  science.  An  inert 
mind  waits,  as  it  were,  for  experiences  to  be  imperiously 
forced  upon  it.  The  pregnant  saying  of  Words- 
worth : 

"The eye— it  cannot  choose  but  see; 

We  cannot  bid  the  ear  be  still ; 

Our  bodies  feel,  where'er  they  be, 

Against  or  with  our  will "  — 

holds  good  in  the  degree  in  which  one  is  naturally  pos- 
sessed by  curiosity.  The  curious  mind  is  constantly 
alert  and  exploring,  seeking  material  for  thought,  as  a 
vigorous  and  healthy  body  is  on  the  qui  vive  for 
nutriment.  Eagerness  for  experience,  for  new  and 
varied  contacts,  is  found  where  wonder  is  found.  Such 
curiosity  is  the  only  sure  guarantee  of  the  acquisition 
of  the  primary  facts  upon  which  inference  must  base 
itself. 

(a)  In  its  first  manifestations,  curiosity  is  a  vital  over-  («)  physical 
flow,  an  expression  of  an  abundant  organic  energy.  A 
physiological  uneasiness  leads  a  child  to  be  "  into  every- 
thing,"-—to  be  reaching,  poking,  pounding,  prying. 
Observers  of  animals  have  noted  what  one  author  calls 
"  their  inveterate  tendency  to  fool."  "  Rats  run  about, 
smell,  dig,  or  gnaw,  without  real  reference  to  the  busi- 
ness in  hand.  In  the  same  way  Jack  [a  dog]  scrabbles 
and  jumps,  the  kitten  wanders  and  picks,  the  otter  slips 
about  everywhere  like  ground  lightning,  the  elephant 
fumbles  ceaselessly,  the  monkey  pulls  things  about."  l 
The  most  casual  notice  of  the  activities  of  a  young  child 
reveals  a  ceaseless  display  of  exploring  and  testing  ac- 
tivity. Objects  are  sucked,  fingered,  and  thumped; 
drawn  and  pushed,  handled  and  thrown ;  in  short,  experi- 

1  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  p.  195. 


HOW   WE   THINK 


(b)  social 


(c)  intel- 
lectual 


merited  with,  till  they  cease  to  yield  new  qualities.  Such 
activities  are  hardly  intellectual,  and  yet  without  them 
intellectual  activity  would  be  feeble  and  intermittent 
through  lack  of  stuff  for  its  operations. 

(£)  A  higher  stage  of  curiosity  develops  under  the  in- 
fluence of  social  stimuli.  When  the  child  learns  that  he 
can  appeal  to  others  to  eke  out  his  store  of  experiences, 
so  that,  if  objects  fail  to  respond  interestingly  to  his  ex- 
periments, he  may  call  upon  persons  to  provide  interest- 
ing material,  a  new  epoch  sets  in.  "  What  is  that  ? " 
"  Why  ?  "  become  the  unfailing  signs  of  a  child's  pres- 
ence. At  first  this  questioning  is  hardly  more  than  a 
projection  into  social  relations  of  the  physical  overflow 
which  earlier  kept  the  child  pushing  and  pulling,  open- 
ing and  shutting.  He  asks  in  succession  what  holds  up 
the  house,  what  holds  up  the  soil  that  holds  the  house, 
what  holds  up  the  earth  that  holds  the  soil ;  but  his 
questions  are  not  evidence  of  any  genuine  consciousness 
of  rational  connections.  His  wJiy  is  not  a  demand  for 
scientific  explanation ;  the  motive  behind  it  is  simply 
eagerness  for  a  larger  acquaintance  with  the  mysterious 
world  in  which  he  is  placed.  The  search  is  not  for 
a  law  or  principle,  but  only  for  a  bigger  fact.  Yet 
there  is  more  than  a  desire  to  accumulate  just  informa- 
tion or  heap  up  disconnected  items,  although  sometimes 
the  interrogating  habit  threatens  to  degenerate  into  a 
mere  disease  of  language.  In  the  feeling,  however  dim, 
that  the  facts  which  directly  meet  the  senses  are  not 
the  whole  story,  that  there  is  more  behind  them  and 
more  to  come  from  them,  lies  the  germ  of  intellectual 
curiosity. 

(c)  Curiosity  rises  above  the  organic  and  the  social 
planes  and  becomes  intellectual  in  the  degree  in  which 


NATURAL   RESOURCES   IN   TRAINING   THOUGHT       33 

it  is  transformed  into  interest  in  problems  provoked  by 
the  observation  of  things  and  the  accumulation  of  ma- 
terial. When  the  question  is  not  discharged  by  being 
asked  of  another,  when  the  child  continues  to  entertain 
it  in  his  own  mind  and  to  be  alert  for  whatever  will  help 
answer  it,  curiosity  has  become  a  positive  intellectual 
force.  To  the  open  mind,  nature  and  social  experience 
are  full  of  varied  and  subtle  challenges  to  look  further. 
If  germinating  powers  are  not  used  and  cultivated  at 
the  right  moment,  they  tend  to  be  transitory,  to  die  out, 
or  to  wane  in  intensity.  This  general  law  is  peculiarly 
true  of  sensitiveness  to  what  is  uncertain  and  question- 
able ;  in  a  few  people,  intellectual  curiosity  is  so  insati- 
able that  nothing  will  discourage  it,  but  in  most  its  edge 
is  easily  dulled  and  blunted.  Bacon's  saying  that  we 
must  become  as  little  children  in  order  to  enter  the 
kingdom  of  science  is  at  once  a  reminder  of  the  open- 
minded  and  flexible  wonder  of  childhood  and  of  the  ease 
with  which  this  endowment  is  lost.  Some  lose  it  in 
indifference  or  carelessness;  others  in  a  frivolous 
flippancy;  many  escape  these  evils  only  to  become  in- 
cased in  a  hard  dogmatism  which  is  equally  fatal  to  the 
spirit  of  wonder.  Some  are  so  taken  up  with  routine 
as  to  be  inaccessible  to  new  facts  and  problems.  Others 
retain  curiosity  only  with  reference  to  what  concerns 
their  personal  advantage  in  their  chosen  career.  With 
many,  curiosity  is  arrested  on  the  plane  of  interest  in 
local  gossip  and  in  the  fortunes  of  their  neighbors ;  in- 
deed, so  usual  is  this  result  that  very  often  the  first 
association  with  the  word  curiosity  is  a  prying  inquisitive- 
ness  into  other  people's  business.  With  respect  then  to 
curiosity,  the  teacher  has  usually  more  to  learn  than  to 
teach.  Rarely  can  he  aspire  to  the  office  of  kindling  or 


34 


HOW   WE   THINK 


The  dimen- 
sions of 
suggestion : 


(a)  ease 


even  increasing  it.  His  task  is  rather  to  keep  alive  the 
sacred  spark  of  wonder  and  to  fan  the  flame  that  already 
glows.  His  problem  is  to  protect  the  spirit  of  inquiry, 
to  keep  it  from  becoming  blas6  from  overexcitement, 
wooden  from  routine,  fossilized  through  dogmatic  in- 
struction, or  dissipated  by  random  exercise  upon  trivial 
things. 

§  2.  Suggestion 

Out  of  the  subject-matter,  whether  rich  or  scanty,  im- 
portant or  trivial,  of  present  experience  issue  sugges- 
tions, ideas,  beliefs  as  to  what  is  not  yet  given.  The 
function  of  suggestion  is  not  one  that  can  be  produced 
by  teaching;  while  it  may  be  modified  for  better  or 
worse  by  conditions,  it  cannot  be  destroyed.  Many  a 
child  has  tried  his  best  to  see  if  he  could  not  "  stop 
thinking,"  but  the  flow  of  suggestions  goes  on  in  spite 
of  our  will,  quite  as  surely  as  "  our  bodies  feel,  where'er 
they  be,  against  or  with  our  will."  Primarily,  naturally, 
it  is  not  we  who  think,  in  any  actively  responsible  sense ; 
thinking  is  rather  something  that  happens  in  us.  Only 
so  far  as  one  has  acquired  control  of  the  method  in 
which  the  function  of  suggestion  occurs  and  has  ac- 
cepted responsibility  for  its  consequences,  can  one  truth- 
fully say,  "/think  so  and  so." 

The  function  of  suggestion  has  a  variety  of  aspects  (or 
dimensions  as  we  may  term  them),  varying  in  different 
persons,  both  in  themselves  and  in  their  mode  of  com- 
bination. These  dimensions  are  ease  or  promptness, 
extent  or  variety,  and  depth  or  persistence,  (a)  The 
common  classification  of  persons  into  the  dull  and  the 
bright  is  made  primarily  on  the  basis  of  the  readiness  or 
facility  with  which  suggestions  follow  upon  the  presenta- 


NATURAL   RESOURCES   IN  TRAINING   THOUGHT       35 

tion  of  objects  and  upon  the  happening  of  events.  As  the 
metaphor  of  dull  and  bright  implies,  some  minds  are  im- 
pervious, or  else  they  absorb  passively.  Everything  pre- 
sented is  lost  in  a  drab  monotony  that  gives  nothing 
back.  But  others  reflect,  or  give  back  in  varied  lights, 
all  that  strikes  upon  them.  The  dull  make  no  response; 
the  bright  flash  back  the  fact  with  a  changed  quality. 
An  inert  or  stupid  mind  requires  a  heavy  jolt  or  an  in- 
tense shock  to  move  it  to  suggestion  ;  the  bright  mind 
is  quick,  is  alert  to  react  with  interpretation  and  sugges- 
tion of  consequences  to  follow. 

Yet  the  teacher  is  not  entitled  to  assume  stupidity  or 
even  dullness  merely  because  of  irresponsiveness  to 
school  subjects  or  to  a  lesson  as  presented  by  text-book 
or  teacher.  The  pupil  labeled  hopeless  may  react  in 
quick  and  lively  fashion  when  the  thing-in-hand  seems 
to  him  worth  while,  as  some  out-of-school  sport  or  social 
affair.  Indeed,  the  school  subject  might  move  him, 
were  it  set  in  a  different  context  and  treated  by  a 
different  method.  A  boy  dull  in  geometry  may  prove 
quick  enough  when  he  takes  up  the  subject  in  connec- 
tion with  manual  training ;  the  girl  who  seems  inacces- 
sible to  historical  facts  may  respond  promptly  when  it  is  a 
question  of  judging  the  character  and  deeds  of  people  of 
her  acquaintance  or  of  fiction.  Barring  physical  defect 
or  disease,  slowness  and  dullness  in  all  directions  are 
comparatively  rare. 

(£)  Irrespective  of  the  difference  in  persons  as  to  the  (t>)  range 
ease  and  promptness  with  which  ideas  respond  to 
facts,  there  is  a  difference  in  the  number  or  range  of  the 
suggestions  that  occur.  We  speak  truly,  in  some  cases, 
of  the  flood  of  suggestions  ;  in  others,  there  is  but  a 
slender  trickle.  Occasionally,  slowness  of  outward 


36  HOW  WE  THINK 

response  is  due  to  a  great  variety  of  suggestions  which 
check  one  another  and  lead  to  hesitation  and  suspense ; 
while  a  lively  and  prompt  suggestion  may  take  such 
possession  of  the  mind  as  to  preclude  the  development 
of  others.  Too  few  suggestions  indicate  a  dry  and 
meager  mental  habit;  when  this  is  joined  to  great  learn- 
ing, there  results  a  pedant  or  a  Gradgrind.  Such  a 
person's  mind  rings  hard ;  he  is  likely  to  bore  others 
with  mere  bulk  of  information.  He  contrasts  with  the 
person  whom  we  call  ripe,  juicy,  and  mellow. 

A  conclusion  reached  after  consideration  of  a  few 
alternatives  may  be  formally  correct,  but  it  will  not 
possess  the  fullness  and  richness  of  meaning  of  one  ar- 
rived at  after  comparison  of  a  greater  variety  of  alterna- 
tive suggestions.  On  the  other  hand,  suggestions  may 
be  too  numerous  and  too  varied  for  the  best  interests  of 
mental  habit.  So  many  suggestions  may  rise  that  the 
person  is  at  a  loss  to  select  among  them.  He  finds  it 
difficult  to  reach  any  definite  conclusion  and  wanders 
more  or  less  helplessly  among  them.  So  much  suggests 
itself  pro  and  con,  one  thing  leads  on  to  another  so  nat- 
urally, that  he  finds  it  difficult  to  decide  in  practical  affairs 
or  to  conclude  in  matters  of  theory.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  too  much  thinking,  as  when  action  is  paralyzed 
by  the  multiplicity  of  views  suggested  by  a  situation. 
Or  again,  the  very  number  of  suggestions  may  be  hostile 
to  tracing  logical  sequences  among  them,  for  it  may 
tempt  the  mind  away  from  the  necessary  but  trying  task 
of  search  for  real  connections,  into  the  more  congenial 
occupation  of  embroidering  upon  the  given  facts  a 
tissue  of  agreeable  fancies.  The  best  mental  habit 
involves  a  balance  between  paucity  and  redundancy  of 
suggestions. 


NATURAL   RESOURCES   IN   TRAINING  THOUGHT       37 

(c)  Depth.   We  distinguish  between  people  not  only  (*)  Pr°- 
upon  the  basis  of  their  quickness  and  fertility  of  intel- 
lectual response,  but  also  with  respect  to  the  plane  upon 
which  it  occurs  —  the  intrinsic  quality  of  the  response. 

One  man's  thought  is  profound  while  another's  is  su- 
perficial ;  one  goes  to  the  roots  of  the  matter,  and  another 
touches  lightly  its  most  external  aspects.  This  phase 
of  thinking  is  perhaps  the  most  untaught  of  all,  and  the 
least  amenable  to  external  influence  whether  for  improve- 
ment or  harm.  Nevertheless,  the  conditions  of  the 
pupil's  contact  with  subject-matter  may  be  such  that  he 
is  compelled  to  come  to  quarters  with  its  more  signifi- 
cant features,  or  such  that  he  is  encouraged  to  deal 
with  it  upon  the  basis  of  what  is  trivial.  The  common 
assumptions  that,  if  the  pupil  only  thinks,  one  thought  is 
just  as  good  for  his  mental  discipline  as  another,  and 
that  the  end  of  study  is  the  amassing  of  information, 
both  tend  to  foster  superficial,  at  the  expense  of  signifi- 
cant, thought.  Pupils  who  in  matters  of  ordinary  practi- 
cal experience  have  a  ready  and  acute  perception  of  the 
difference  between  the  significant  and  the  meaningless, 
often  reach  in  school  subjects  a  point  where  all  things 
seem  equally  important  or  equally  unimportant ;  where 
one  thing  is  just  as  likely  to  be  true  as  another,  and 
where  intellectual  effort  is  expended  not  in  discriminat- 
ing between  things,  but  in  trying  to  make  verbal  con- 
nections among  words. 

Sometimes  slowness  and  depth  of  response  are  inti-  Balance 
mately  connected.     Time  is  required  in  order  to  digest  of  mmd 
impressions,  and  translate  them  into  substantial  ideas. 
"  Brightness  "  may  be  but  a  flash  in  the  pan.     The  "  slow 
but  sure  "  person,  whether  man  or  child,  is  one  in  whom 
impressions  sink  and  accumulate,  so  that  thinking  is  done 


HOW    WE   THINK 


Individual 
differences 


Any  subject 
may  be  in- 
tellectual 


at  a  deeper  level  of  value  than  with  a  slighter  load. 
Many  a  child  is  rebuked  for  "slowness,"  for  not  "an- 
swering promptly,"  when  his  forces  are  taking  time  to 
gather  themselves  together  to  deal  effectively  with  the 
problem  at  hand.  In  such  cases,  failure  to  afford  time 
and  leisure  conduce  to  habits  of  speedy,  but  snapshot 
and  superficial,  judgment.  The  depth  to  which  a  sense 
of  the  problem,  of  the  difficulty,  sinks,  determines  the 
quality  of  the  thinking  that  follows ;  and  any  habit  of 
teaching  which  encourages  the  pupil  for  the  sake  of  a 
successful  recitation  or  of  a  display  of  memorized  in- 
formation to  glide  over  the  thin  ice  of  genuine  problems 
reverses  the  true  method  of  mind  training. 

It  is  profitable  to  study  the  lives  of  men  and  women 
who  achieve  in  adult  life  fine  things  in  their  respective 
callings,  but  who  were  called  dull  in  their  school  days. 
Sometimes  the  early  wrong  judgment  was  due  mainly 
to  the  fact  that  the  direction  in  which  the  child  showed 
his  ability  was  not  one  recognized  by  the  good  old 
standards  in  use,  as  in  the  case  of  Darwin's  interest  in 
beetles,  snakes,  and  frogs.  Sometimes  it  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  child  dwelling  habitually  on  a  deeper 
plane  of  reflection  than  other  pupils  —  or  than  his 
teachers  —  did  not  show  to  advantage  when  prompt 
answers  of  the  usual  sort  were  expected.  Sometimes  it 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  pupil's  natural  mode  of 
approach  clashed  habitually  with  that  of  the  text  or 
teacher,  and  the  method  of  the  latter  was  assumed  as 
an  absolute  basis  of  estimate. 

In  any  event,  it  is  desirable  that  the  teacher  should 
rid  himself  of  the  notion  that  "thinking"  is  a  single, 
unalterable  faculty  ;  that  he  should  recognize  that  it  is  a 
term  denoting  the  various  ways  in  which  things  acquire 


NATURAL  RESOURCES  IN  TRAINING  THOUGHT       39 

significance.  It  is  desirable  to  expel  also  the  kindred  no- 
tion that  some  subjects  are  inherently  "  intellectual,"  and 
hence  possessed  of  an  almost  magical  power  to  train  the 
faculty  of  thought.  Thinking  is  specific,  not  a  machine- 
like,  ready-made  apparatus  to  be  turned  indifferently 
and  at  will  upon  all  subjects,  as  a  lantern  may  throw  its 
light  as  it  happens  upon  horses,  streets,  gardens,  trees, 
or  river.  Thinking  is  specific,  in  that  different  things 
suggest  their  own  appropriate  meanings,  tell  their  own 
unique  stories,  and  in  that  they  do  this  in  very  differ- 
ent ways  with  different  persons.  As  the  growth  of 
the  body  is  through  the  assimilation  of  food,  so  the 
growth  of  mind  is  through  the  logical  organization 
of  subject-matter.  Thinking  is  not  like  a  sausage 
machine  which  reduces  all  materials  indifferently  to  one 
marketable  commodity,  but  is  a  power  of  following  up 
and  linking  together  the  specific  suggestions  that 
specific  things  arouse.  Accordingly,  any  subject,  from 
Greek  to  cooking,  and  from  drawing  to  mathematics,  is 
intellectual,  if  intellectual  at  all,  not  in  its  fixed  inner 
structure,  but  in  its  function  —  in  its  power  to  start  and 
direct  significant  inquiry  and  reflection.  What  geometry 
does  for  one,  the  manipulation  of  laboratory  apparatus, 
the  mastery  of  a  musical  composition,  or  the  conduct  of 
a  business  affair,  may  do  for  another. 

§  3.    Orderliness:  Its  Nature 

Facts,  whether  narrow  or  extensive,  and  conclusions 
suggested  by  them,  whether  many  or  few,  do  not  con- 
stitute, even  when  combined,  reflective  thought.  The 
suggestions  must  be  organized ;  they  must  be  arranged 
with  reference  to  one  another  and  with  reference  to 
the  facts  on  which  they  depend  for  proof.  When  the 


40  HOW  WE  THINK 

factors  of  facility,  of  fertility,  and  of  depth  are  properly 
balanced  or  proportioned,  we  get  as  the  outcome  conti- 
nuity of  thought.  We  desire  neither  the  slow  mind  nor 
yet  the  hasty.  We  wish  neither  random  diffuseness 
Continuity  nor  fixed  rigidity.  Consecutiveness  means  flexibility 
and  variety  of  materials,  conjoined  with  singleness  and 
defmiteness  of  direction.  It  is  opposed  both  to  a  me- 
chanical routine  uniformity  and  to  a  grasshopper-like 
movement.  Of  bright  children,  it  is  not  infrequently 
said  that  "  they  might  do  anything,  if  only  they  settled 
down,"  so  quick  and  apt  are  they  in  any  particular  re- 
sponse. But,  alas,  they  rarely  settle. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  enough  not  to  be  diverted. 
A  deadly  and  fanatic  consistency  is  not  our  goal.  Con- 
centration does  not  mean  fixity,  nor  a  cramped  arrest  or 
paralysis  of  the  flow  of  suggestion.  It  means  variety 
and  change  of  ideas  combined  into  a  single  steady  trend 
moving  toward  a  zmified  conclusion.  Thoughts  are  con- 
centrated not  by  being  kept  still  and  quiescent,  but 
by  being  kept  moving  toward  an  object,  as  a  general 
concentrates  his  troops  for  attack  or  defense.  Holding 
the  mind  to  a  subject  is  like  holding  a  ship  to  its  course; 
it  implies  constant  change  of  place  combined  with  unity 
of  direction.  Consistent  and  orderly  thinking  is  precisely 
such  a  change  of  subject-matter.  Consistency  is  no 
more  the  mere  absence  of  contradiction  than  concentra- 
tion is  the  mere  absence  of  diversion  —  which  exists  in 
dull  routine  or  in  a  person  "  fast  asleep."  All  kinds  of 
varied  and  incompatible  suggestions  may  sprout  and  be 
followed  in  their  growth,  and  yet  thinking  be  consistent 
and  orderly,  provided  each  one  of  the  suggestions  is 
viewed  in  relation  to  the  main  topic. 

In  the  main,  for  most  persons,  the  primary  resource 


NATURAL  RESOURCES   IN   TRAINING  THOUGHT       41 

in  the  development  of  orderly  habits  of  thought  is  in-  Practical 
direct,  not  direct.  Intellectual  organization  originates  enforce48 
and  for  a  time  grows  as  an  accompaniment  of  the  or-  some  degree 
ganization  of  the  acts  required  to  realize  an  end,  not  as 
the  result  of  a  direct  appeal  to  thinking  power.  The 
need  of  thinking  to  accomplish  something  beyond  think- 
ing is  more  potent  than  thinking  for  its  own  sake.  All 
people  at  the  outset,  and  the  majority  of  people  probably 
all  their  lives,  attain  ordering  of  thought  through  order- 
ing of  action.  Adults  normally  carry  on  some  occupation, 
profession,  pursuit ;  and  this  furnishes  the  continuous 
axis  about  which  their  knowledge,  their  beliefs,  and  their 
habits  of  reaching  and  testing  conclusions  are  organized. 
Observations  that  have  to  do  with  the  efficient  perform- 
ance of  their  calling  are  extended  and  rendered  precise. 
Information  related  to  it  is  not  merely  amassed  and 
then  left  in  a  heap  ;  it  is  classified  and  subdivided  so  as 
to  be  available  as  it  is  needed.  Inferences  are  made  by 
most  men  not  from  purely  speculative  motives,  but  be- 
cause they  are  involved  in  the  efficient  performance 
of  "the  duties  involved  in  their  several  callings." 
Thus  their  inferences  are  constantly  tested  by  results 
achieved ;  futile  and  scattering  methods  tend  to  be  dis- 
counted; orderly  arrangements  have  a  premium  put 
upon  them.  The  event,  the  issue,  stands  as  a  constant 
check  on  the  thinking  that  has  led  up  to  it ;  and  this 
discipline  by  efficiency  in  action  is  the  chief  sanction,  in 
practically  all  who  are  not  scientific  specialists,  of  order- 
liness of  thought. 

Such  a  resource — the  main  prop  of  disciplined  think- 
ing in  adult  life  —  is  not  to  be  despised  in  training  the 
young  in  right  intellectual  habits.  There  are,  however, 
profound  differences  between  the  immature  and  the 


42  HOW  WE  THINK 

adult  in  the  matter  of  organized  activity  —  differences 
which  must  be  taken  seriously  into  account  in  any 
educational  use  of  activities :  (?)  The  external  achieve- 
ment resulting  from  activity  is  a  more  urgent  necessity 
with  the  adult,  and  hence  is  with  him  a  more  effective 
means  of  discipline  of  mind  than  with  the  child ;  (ii)  The 
ends  of  adult  activity  are  more  specialized  than  those  of 
child  activity. 

Peculiar  (3)  The  selection  and   arrangement    of    appropriate 

with"  lines  of  action  is  a  much  more  difficult  problem  as  re- 

children  spects  youth  than  it  is  in  the  case  of  adults.  With  the 
latter,  the  main  lines  are  more  or  less  settled  by  circum- 
stances. The  social  status  of  the  adult,  the  fact  that  he 
is  a  citizen,  a  householder,  a  parent,  one  occupied  in 
some  regular  industrial  or  professional  calling,  prescribes 
the  chief  features  of  the  acts  to  be  performed,  and 
secures,  somewhat  automatically,  as  it  were,  appropriate 
and  related  modes  of  thinking.  But  with  the  child  there 
is  no  such  fixity  of  status  and  pursuit ;  there  is  almost 
nothing  to  dictate  that  such  and  such  a  consecutive  line 
of  action,  rather  than  another,  should  be  followed,  while 
the  will  of  others,  his  own  caprice,  and  circumstances 
about  him  tend  to  produce  an  isolated  momentary  act. 
The  absence  of  continued  motivation  cooperates  with  the 
inner  plasticity  of  the  immature  to  increase  the  importance 
of  educational  training  and  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
finding  consecutive  modes  of  activities  which  may  do  for 
child  and  youth  what  serious  vocations  and  functions  do 
for  the  adult.  In  the  case  of  children,  the  choice  is  so 
peculiarly  exposed  to  arbitrary  factors,  to  mere  school 
traditions,  to  waves  of  pedagogical  fad  and  fancy,  to 
fluctuating  social  cross  currents,  that  sometimes,  in  sheer 
disgust  at  the  inadequacy  of  results,  a  reaction  occurs 


NATURAL  RESOURCES   IN   TRAINING   THOUGHT       43 

to  the  total  neglect  of  overt  activity  as  an  educational 
factor,  and  a  recourse  to  purely  theoretical  subjects  and 
methods. 

(ii)  This  very  difficulty,  however,  points  to  the  fact  Peculiar 
that  the  opportunity  for  selecting  truly  educative  activi- 


ties  is  indefinitely  greater  in  child  life  than  in  adult,  children 
The  factor  of  external  pressure  is  so  strong  with  most 
adults  that  the  educative  value  of  the  pursuit  —  its  reflex 
influence  upon  intelligence  and  character  —  however 
genuine,  is  incidental,  and  frequently  almost  accidental. 
The  problem  and  the  opportunity  with  the  young  is 
selection  of  orderly  and  continuous  modes  of  occupa- 
tion, which,  while  they  lead  up  to  and  prepare  for  the 
indispensable  activities  of  adult  life,  have  their  own 
sufficient  justification  in  their  present  reflex  influence 
upon  the  formation  of  habits  of  thought. 

Educational  practice  shows  a  continual  tendency  to  Action  and 
oscillate  between  two  extremes  with  respect  to  overt  jjttween 
and  executive  activities.  One  extreme  is  to  neglect  them  extremes 
almost  entirely,  on  the  ground  that  they  are  chaotic  and 
fluctuating,  mere  diversions  appealing  to  the  transitory 
unformed  taste  and  caprice  of  immature  minds;  or  if 
they  avoid  this  evil,  are  objectionable  copies  of  the 
highly  specialized,  and  more  or  less  commercial,  activ- 
ities of  adult  life.  If  activities  are  admitted  at  all  into 
the  school,  the  admission  is  a  grudging  concession  to 
the  necessity  of  having  occasional  relief  from  the  strain 
of  constant  intellectual  work,  or  to  the  clamor  of  outside 
utilitarian  demands  upon  the  school.  The  other  extreme 
is  an  enthusiastic  belief  in  the  almost  magical  edu- 
cative efficacy  of  any  kind  of  activity,  granted  it  is 
an  activity  and  not  a  passive  absorption  of  academic 
and  theoretic  material.  The  conceptions  of  play,  of 


44  HOW   WE   THINK 

self-expression,  of  natural  growth,  are  appealed  to  al- 
most as  if  they  meant  that  opportunity  for  any  kind  of 
spontaneous  activity  inevitably  secures  the  due  training 
of  mental  power ;  or  a  mythological  brain  physiology  is 
appealed  to  as  proof  that  any  exercise  of  the  muscles 
trains  power  of  thought. 

Locating  the  While  we  vibrate  from  one  of  these  extremes  to  the 
ed°batioi  other,  the  most  serious  of  all  problems  is  ignored : 
the  problem,  namely,  of  discovering  and  arranging  the 
forms  of  activity  (a)  which  are  most  congenial,  best 
adapted,  to  the  immature  stage  of  development;  (b)  which 
have  the  most  ulterior  promise  as  preparation  for  the 
social  responsibilities  of  adult  life ;  and  (c)  which,  at  tJte 
same  time,  have  the  maximum  of  influence  in  forming 
habits  of  acute  observation  and  of  consecutive  infer- 
ence. As  curiosity  is  related  to  the  acquisition  of  ma- 
terial of  thought,  as  suggestion  is  related  to  flexibility 
and  force  of  thought,  so  the  ordering  of  activities,  not 
themselves  primarily  intellectual,  is  related  to  the  form- 
ing of  intellectual  powers  of  consecutiveness. 


CHAPTER   FOUR 
SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT 

§  i.   Introductory:  Methods  and  Conditions 

THE  so-called  faculty-psychology  went  hand  in  hand  Formal 
with  the  vogue  of  the  formal-discipline  idea  in  education.  dl8C1Pline 
If  thought  is  a  distinct  piece  of  mental  machinery, 
separate  from  observation,  memory,  imagination,  and 
common-sense  judgments  of  persons  and  things,  then 
thought  should  be  trained  by  special  exercises  designed 
for  the  purpose,  as  one  might  devise  special  exercises 
for  developing  the  biceps  muscles.  Certain  subjects  are 
then  to  be  regarded  as  intellectual  or  logical  subjects 
par  excellence,  possessed  of  a  predestined  fitness  to  exer- 
cise the  thought-faculty,  just  as  certain  machines  are 
better  than  others  for  developing  arm  power.  With 
these  three  notions  goes  the  fourth,  that  method  consists 
of  a  set  of  operations  by  which  the  machinery  of  thought 
is  set  going  and  kept  at  work  upon  any  subject-matter. 

We  have  tried  to  make  it  clear  in  the  previous  chap-  versus 
ters  that  there  is  no  single  and  uniform  power  of 
thought,  but  a  multitude  of  different  ways  in  which 
specific  things  —  things  observed,  remembered,  heard  of, 
read  about  —  evoke  suggestions  or  ideas  that  are  per- 
tinent to  the  occasion  and  fruitful  in  the  sequel.  Train- 
ing is  such  development  of  curiosity,  suggestion,  and 
habits  of  exploring  and  testing,  as  increases  their  scope 

45 


46 


HOW  WE  THINK 


True  and 
false  mean- 
ing of 
method 


and  efficiency.  A  subject — any  subject  —  is  intellec- 
tual in  the  degree  in  which  with  any  given  person  it 
succeeds  in  effecting  this  growth.  On  this  view  the 
fourth  factor,  method,  is  concerned  with  providing  con- 
ditions so  adapted  to  individual  needs  and  powers  as 
to  make  for  the  permanent  improvement  of  observation, 
suggestion,  and  investigation. 

The  teacher's  problem  is  thus  twofold.  On  the  one 
side,  he  needs  (as  we  saw  in  the  last  chapter)  to  be  a 
student  of  individual  traits  and  habits  ;  on  the  other  side, 
he  needs  to  be  a  student  of  the  conditions  that  modify 
for  better  or  worse  the  directions  in  which  individual 
powers  habitually  express  themselves.  He  needs  to  rec- 
ognize that  method  covers  not  only  what  he  intentionally 
devises  and  employs  for  the  purpose  of  mental  training, 
but  also  what  he  does  without  any  conscious  reference 
to  it,  —  anything  in  the  atmosphere  and  conduct  of 
the  school  which  reacts  in  any  way  upon  the  curiosity, 
the  responsiveness,  and  the  orderly  activity  of  chil- 
dren. The  teacher  who  is  an  intelligent  student  both  of 
individual  mental  operations  and  of  the  effects  of  school 
conditions  upon  those  operations,  can  largely  be  trusted 
to  develop  for  himself  methods  of  instruction  in  their  nar- 
rower and  more  technical  sense  —  those  best  adapted  to 
achieve  results  in  particular  subjects,  such  as  reading, 
geography,  or  algebra.  In  the  hands  of  one  who  is  not 
intelligently  aware  of  individual  capacities  and  of  the  in- 
fluence unconsciously  exerted  upon  them  by  the  entire 
environment,  even  the  best  of  technical  methods  are 
likely  to  get  an  immediate  result  only  at  the  expense  of 
deep-seated  and  persistent  habits.  We  may  group  the 
conditioning  influences  of  the  school  environment  under 
three  heads :  (i)  the  mental  attitudes  and  habits  of  the 


SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  TRAINING   THOUGHT       47 

persons  with  whom  the  child  is  in  contact ;  (2)  the  sub- 
jects studied  5(3)  current  educational  aims  and  ideals. 

§  2.    Influence  of  the  Habits  of  Others 

Bare  reference  to  the  imitativeness  of  human  nature 
is  enough  to  suggest  how  profoundly  the  mental  habits 
of  others  affect  the  attitude  of  the  one  being  trained. 
Example  is  more  potent  than  precept ;  and  a  teacher's 
best  conscious  efforts  may  be  more  than  counteracted  by 
the  influence  of  personal  traits  which  he  is  unaware  of 
or  regards  as  unimportant.  Methods  of  instruction  and 
discipline  that  are  technically  faulty  may  be  rendered 
practically  innocuous  by  the  inspiration  of  the  personal 
method  that  lies  back  of  them. 

To  confine,  however,  the  conditioning  influence  of  the  Response  to 
educator,  whether  parent  or  teacher,  to  imitation  is  to  f^^^tai 
get  a  very  superficial  view  of  the  intellectual  influence  in  method 
of  others.     Imitation  is  but  one  case  of  a  deeper  prin- 
ciple —  that  of  stimulus  and  response.     Everything  the 
teacher  does,  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which  he  does  it, 
incites  the  child  to  respond  in  some  way  or  other,  and 
each  response  tends  to  set  the  child 's  attitude  in  some  way 
or  other.     Even  the  inattention  of  the  child  to  the  adult 
is  often  a  mode  of  response  which  is  the  result  of  un- 
conscious training.1    The  teacher  is  rarely  (and  even 
then  never  entirely)  a  transparent  medium  of  access  by 
another  mind   to  a  subject.     With  the  young,  the  in- 
fluence of  the  teacher's  personality  is  intimately  fused 
with  that  of  the  subject;  the  child  does  not  separate 

1  A  child  of  four  or  five  who  had  been  repeatedly  called  to  the  house 
by  his  mother  with  no  apparent  response  on  his  own  part,  was  asked  if  he 
did  not  hear  her.  He  replied  quite  judicially,  "  Oh,  yes,  but  she  doesn't 
call  very  mad  yet." 


48 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Influence  of 
teacher's 
own  habits 


Judging 
others  by 

ourselves 


nor  even  distinguish  the  two.  And  as  the  child's  re- 
sponse is  toward  or  away  from  anything  presented,  he 
keeps  up  a  running  commentary,  of  which  he  himself  is 
hardly  distinctly  aware,  of  like  and  dislike,  of  sympathy 
and  aversion,  not  merely  to  the  acts  of  the  teacher,  but 
also  to  the  subject  with  which  the  teacher  is  occupied. 

The  extent  and  power  of  this  influence  upon  morals 
and  manners,  upon  character,  upon  habits  of  speech 
and  social  bearing,  are  almost  universally  recognized. 
But  the  tendency  to  conceive  of  thought  as  an  isolated 
faculty  has  often  blinded  teachers  to  the  fact  that 
this  influence  is  just  as  real  and  pervasive  in  intellec- 
tual concerns.  Teachers,  as  well  as  children,  stick 
more  or  less  to  the  main  points,  have  more  or  less 
wooden  and  rigid  methods  of  response,  and  display  more 
or  less  intellectual  curiosity  about  matters  that  come  up. 
And  every  trait  of  this  kind  is  an  inevitable  part  of  the 
teacher's  method  of  teaching.  Merely  to  accept  with- 
out notice  slipshod  habits  of  speech,  slovenly  inferences, 
unimaginative  and  literal  response,  is  to  indorse  these 
tendencies,  and  to  ratify  them  into  habits  —  and  so  it 
goes  throughout  the  whole  range  of  contact  between 
teacher  and  student.  In  this  complex  and  intricate 
field,  two  or  three  points  may  well  be  singled  out  for 
special  notice,  (a)  Most  persons  are  quite  unaware  of 
the  distinguishing  peculiarities  of  their  own  mental 
habit.  They  take  their  own  mental  operations  for 
granted,  and  unconsciously  make  them  the  standard  for 
judging  the  mental  processes  of  others.1  Hence  there 

1  People  who  have  number-forms  —  i.e.  project  number  series  into 
space  and  see  them  arranged  in  certain  shapes  —  when  asked  why  they 
have  not  mentioned  the  fact  before,  often  reply  that  it  never  occurred  to 
them;  they  supposed  that  everybody  had  the  same  power. 


SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  TRAINING  THOUGHT       49 

is  a  tendency  to  encourage  everything  in  the  pupil 
which  agrees  with  this  attitude,  and  to  neglect  or  fail 
to  understand  whatever  is  incongruous  with  it.  The 
prevalent  overestimation  of  the  value,  for  mind-train- 
ing, of  theoretic  subjects  as  compared  with  practical 
pursuits,  is  doubtless  due  partly  to  the  fact  that  the 
teacher's  calling  tends  to  select  those  in  whom  the 
theoretic  interest  is  specially  strong  and  to  repel  those 
in  whom  executive  abilities  are  marked.  Teachers 
sifted  out  on  this  basis  judge  pupils  and  subjects  by  a 
like  standard,  encouraging  an  intellectual  one-sidedness 
in  those  to  whom  it  is  naturally  congenial,  and  repelling 
from  study  those  in  whom  practical  instincts  are  more 
urgent. 

(if)  Teachers —  and  this  holds  especially  of  the  stronger  Exaggera- 
and  better  teachers  —  tend  to  rely  upon  their  personal  ta°r* °*^rect 
strong  points  to  hold  a  child  to  his  work,  and  thereby  influence 
to  substitute  their  personal  influence  for  that  of  subject- 
matter   as   a   motive  for  study.     The  teacher  finds  by 
experience  that  his  own  personality  is  often  effective 
where  the  power  of  the  subject  to  command  attention 
is   almost  nil;   then  he  utilizes   the   former  more  and 
more,  until  the  pupil's  relation  to  the  teacher  almost 
takes  the  place  of  his  relation  to  the  subject.     In  this 
way  the  teacher's  personality  may  become  a  source  of 
personal  dependence  and  weakness,  an  influence  that 
renders  the  pupil  indifferent  to  the  value  of  the  subject 
for  its  own  sake. 

(c)  The  operation  of  the  teacher's  own  mental  habit  independent 
tends,  unless  carefully  watched  and  guided,  to   make  thinkins 
the  child  a  student  of  the  teacher's  peculiarities  rather  "getting the 
than  of  the  subjects  that  he  is  supposed  to  study.     His  answer 
chief  concern  is  to  accommodate  himself  to  what  the 


50  HOW  WE  THINK 

teacher  expects  of  him,  rather  than  to  devote  himself 
energetically  to  the  problems  of  subject-matter.  "  Is  this 
right  ? "  comes  to  mean  "  Will  this  answer  or  this  pro- 
cess satisfy  the  teacher  ?  "  —  instead  of  meaning,  "  Does 
it  satisfy  the  inherent  conditions  of  the  problem  ? "  It 
would  be  folly  to  deny  the  legitimacy  or  the  value  of 
the  study  of  human  nature  that  children  carry  on  in 
school ;  but  it  is  obviously  undesirable  that  their  chief 
intellectual  problem  should  be  that  of  producing  an 
answer  approved  by  the  teacher,  and  their  standard  of 
success  be  successful  adaptation  to  the  requirements  of 
another. 

§  3.   Influence  of  the  Nature  of  Studies 

Types  Studies  are  conventionally  and  conveniently  grouped 

studies  under  these  heads :  (i)  Those  especially  involving  the 
acquisition  of  skill  in  performance  —  the  school  arts, 
such  as  reading,  writing,  figuring,  and  music.  (2)  Those 
mainly  concerned  with  acquiring  knowledge — "infor- 
mational "  studies,  such  as  geography  and  history.  (3) 
Those  in  which  skill  in  doing  and  bulk  of  information 
are  relatively  less  important,  and  appeal  to  abstract 
thinking,  to  "reasoning,"  is  most  marked  —  "disciplin- 
ary "  studies,  such  as  arithmetic  and  formal  grammar.1 
Each  of  these  groups  of  subjects  has  its  own  special 
pitfalls. 

The  abstract       (a)   In  the  case  of  the  so-called  disciplinary  or  pre- 
fsoiated         eminently  logical  studies,  there  is  danger  of  the  isola- 
tion of  intellectual  activity   from  the   ordinary   affairs 

1  Of  course,  any  one  subject  has  all  three  aspects  :  e.g.  in  arithmetic, 
counting,  writing,  and  reading  numbers,  rapid  adding,  etc.,  are  cases  of 
skill  in  doing  ;  the  tables  of  weights  and  measures  are  a  matter  of  infor- 
mation, etc. 


SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  TRAINING   THOUGHT       51 

of  life.  Teacher  and  student  alike  tend  to  set  up  a 
chasm  between  logical  thought  as  something  abstract 
and  remote,  and  the  specific  and  concrete  demands  of 
everyday  events.  The  abstract  tends  to  become  so 
aloof,  so  far  away  from  application,  as  to  be  cut  loose 
from  practical  and  moral  bearing.  The  gullibility  of 
specialized  scholars  when  out  of  their  own  lines,  their  ex- 
travagant habits  of  inference  and  speech,  their  ineptness 
in  reaching  conclusions  in  practical  matters,  their  ego- 
tistical engrossment  in  their  own  subjects,  are  extreme 
examples  of  the  bad  effects  of  severing  studies  com- 
pletely from  their  ordinary  connections  in  life. 

(£)   The  danger  in  those  studies  where  the  main  em-  Overdoing 

«        •      •  •   *j  •  ri  »ii    •      •  A  i  the  niech.3.ii« 

phasis  is  upon  acquisition  of  skill  is  just  the  reverse.  icaland 
The  tendency  is  to  take  the  shortest  cuts  possible  to  automatic 
gain  the  required  end.  This  makes  the  subjects  me- 
chanical, and  thus  restrictive  of  intellectual  power.  In 
the  mastery  of  reading,  writing,  drawing,  laboratory  tech- 
nique, etc.,  the  need  of  economy  of  time  and  material, 
of  neatness  and  accuracy,  of  promptness  and  uniformity, 
is  so  great  that  these  things  tend  to  become  ends  in 
themselves,  irrespective  of  their  influence  upon  general 
mental  attitude.  Sheer  imitation,  dictation  of  steps  to 
be  taken,  mechanical  drill,  may  give  results  most 
quickly  and  yet  strengthen  traits  likely  to  be  fatal 
to  reflective  power.  The  pupil  is  enjoined  to  do  this 
and  that  specific  thing,  with  no  knowledge  of  any  rea- 
son except  that  by  so  doing  he  gets  his  result  most 
speedily ;  his  mistakes  are  pointed  out  and  corrected 
for  him  ;  he  is  kept  at  pure  repetition  of  certain  acts 
till  they  become  automatic.  Later,  teachers  wonder 
why  the  pupil  reads  with  so  little  expression,  and  fig- 
ures with  so  little  intelligent  consideration  of  the  terms 


52  HOW   WE  THINK 

"Drill"  of  his  problem.  In  some  educational  dogmas  and  prac- 
tices, the  very  idea  of  training  mind  seems  to  be  hope- 
lessly confused  with  that  of  a  drill  which  hardly  touches 
mind  at  all  —  or  touches  it  for  the  worse  —  since  it  is 
wholly  taken  up  with  training  skill  in  external  execution. 
This  method  reduces  the  "training"  of  human  beings 
to  the  level  of  animal  training.  Practical  skill,  modes 
of  effective  technique,  can  be  intelligently,  non-mechani- 
cally  used,  only  when  intelligence  has  played  a  part  in 
their  acquisition. 

Wisdom  (c)   Much  the  same  sort  of  thing  is  to  be  said  regard- 

versus  jng    studies  where    emphasis   traditionally   falls   upon 

information  * 

bulk  and  accuracy  of  information.  The  distinction 
between  information  and  wisdom  is  old,  and  yet  requires 
constantly  to  be  redrawn.  Information  is  knowledge 
which  is  merely  acquired  and  stored  up;  wisdom  is  knowl- 
edge operating  in  the  direction  of  powers  to  the  better 
living  of  life.  Information,  merely  as  information,  im- 
plies no  special  training  of  intellectual  capacity ;  wisdom 
is  the  finest  fruit  of  that  training.  In  school,  amassing 
information  always  tends  to  escape  from  the  ideal  of 
wisdom  or  good  judgment.  The  aim  often  seems  to  be 
—  especially  in  such  a  subject  as  geography  —  to  make 
the  pupil  what  has  been  called  a  "  cyclopedia  of  useless 
information."  "Covering  the  ground"  is  the  primary 
necessity;  the  nurture  of  mind  a  bad  second.  Thinking 
cannot,  of  course,  go  on  in  a  vacuum  ;  suggestions  and 
inferences  can  occur  only  upon  a  basis  of  information 
as  to  matters  of  fact. 

But  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  whether 
the  acquisition  of  information  is  treated  as  an  end  in 
itself,  or  is  made  an  integral  portion  of  the  training  of 
thought.  The  assumption  that  information  which  has 


SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  TRAINING   THOUGHT       53 

been  accumulated  apart  from  use  in  the  recognition  and 
solution  of  a  problem  may  later  on  be  freely  employed 
at  will  by  thought  is  quite  false.  The  skill  at  the  ready 
command  of  intelligence  is  the  skill  acquired  with 
the  aid  of  intelligence ;  the  only  information  which, 
otherwise  than  by  accident,  can  be  put  to  logical  use  is 
that  acquired  in  the  course  of  thinking.  Because  their 
knowledge  has  been  achieved  in  connection  with  the 
needs  of  specific  situations,  men  of  little  book-learning  are 
often  able  to  put  to  effective  use  every  ounce  of  knowl- 
edge they  possess ;  while  men  of  vast  erudition  are  often 
swamped  by  the  mere  bulk  of  their  learning,  because 
memory,  rather  than  thinking,  has  been  operative  in 
obtaining  it. 

§  4.    The  Influence  of  Current  Aims  and  Ideals 

It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  separate  this  somewhat 
intangible  condition  from  the  points  just  dealt  with; 
for  automatic  skill  and  quantity  of  information  are  edu- 
cational ideals  which  pervade  the  whole  school.  We 
may  distinguish,  however,  certain  tendencies,  such  as 
that  to  judge  education  from  the  standpoint  of  external 
results,  instead  of  from  that  of  the  development  of  per- 
sonal attitudes  and  habits.  The  ideal  of  the  product,  as 
against  that  of  the  mental /rar^w  by  which  the  product 
is  attained,  shows  itself  in  both  instruction  and  moral 
discipline. 

(a)  In  instruction,  the  external  standard  manifests  itself  External 

in  the  importance  attached  to  the  "  correct  answer."     No  result8 

versus 
one  other  thing,  probably,  works  so  fatally  against  focus-  processes 

sing  the  attention  of  teachers  upon  the  training  of  mind 
as  the  domination  of  their  minds  by  the  idea  that  the  chief 
thing  is  to  get  pupils  to  recite  their  lessons  correctly. 


54  HOW   WE   THINK 

As  long  as  this  end  is  uppermost  (whether  consciously 
or  unconsciously),  training  of  mind  remains  an  incidental 
and  secondary  consideration.  There  is  no  great  difficulty 
in  understanding  why  this  ideal  has  such  vogue.  The 
large  number  of  pupils  to  be  dealt  with,  and  the  tend- 
ency of  parents  and  school  authorities  to  demand 
speedy  and  tangible  evidence  of  progress,  conspire  to 
give  it  currency.  Knowledge  of  subject-matter  —  not 
of  children  —  is  alone  exacted  of  teachers  by  this  aim  ; 
and,  moreover,  knowledge  of  subject-matter  only  in 
portions  definitely  prescribed  and  laid  out,  and  hence 
mastered  with  comparative  ease.  Education  that  takes 
as  its  standard  the  improvement  of  the  intellectual  atti- 
tude and  method  of  students  demands  more  serious  pre- 
paratory training,  for  it  exacts  sympathetic  and  intelli- 
gent insight  into  the  workings  of  individual  minds,  and 
a  very  wide  and  flexible  command  of  subject-matter — so 
as  to  be  able  to  select  and  apply  just  what  is  needed 
when  it  is  needed.  Finally,  the  securing  of  external 
results  is  an  aim  that  lends  itself  naturally  to  the 
mechanics  of  school  administration  —  to  examinations, 
marks,  gradings,  promotions,  and  so  on. 

Reliance  (#)  With   reference   to   behavior   also,  the    external 

upon  others  ideal  has  a  great  influence.  Conformity  of  acts  to  pre- 
cepts and  rules  is  the  easiest,  because  most  mechanical, 
standard  to  employ.  It  is  no  part  of  our  present  task 
to  tell  just  how  far  dogmatic  instruction,  or  strict  adher- 
ence to  custom,  convention,  and  the  commands  of  a 
social  superior,  should  extend  in  moral  training  ;  but 
since  problems  of  conduct  are  the  deepest  and  most 
common  of  all  the  problems  of  life,  the  ways  in  which 
they  are  met  have  an  influence  that  radiates  into  every 
other  mental  attitude,  even  those  far  remote  from  any 


SCHOOL  CONDITIONS  AND  TRAINING   THOUGHT       55 

direct  or  conscious  moral  consideration.  Indeed,  the 
deepest  plane  of  the  mental  attitude  of  every  one  is  fixed 
by  the  way  in  which  problems  of  behavior  are  treated.  If 
the  function  of  thought,  of  serious  inquiry  and  reflection, 
is  reduced  to  a  minimum  in  dealing  with  them,  it  is  not 
reasonable  to  expect  habits  of  thought  to  exercise  great 
influence  in  less  important  matters.  On  the  other  hand, 
habits  of  active  inquiry  and  careful  deliberation  in  the 
significant  and  vital  problems  of  conduct  afford  the  best 
guarantee  that  the  general  structure  of  mind  will  be 
reasonable. 


CHAPTER   FIVE 


Special 
topic  of 
this  chapter 


Three 
senses  of 
term  logical 


The  practi- 
cal is  the 
important 
meaning  of 
logical 


THE  MEANS  AND  END  OF    MENTAL   TRAINING:    THE 
PSYCHOLOGICAL  AND  THE  LOGICAL 

§  I.   Introductory:    The  Meaning  of  Logical 

IN  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  considered  (i)  what 
thinking  is ;  (u)  the  importance  of  its  special  training ; 
(Hi)  the  natural  tendencies  that  lend  themselves  to  its 
training;  and  (iv)  some  of  the  special  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  its  training  under  school  conditions.  We  come  now 
to  the  relation  of  logic  to  the  purpose  of  mental  training. 

In  its  broadest  sense,  any  thinking  that  ends  in  a 
conclusion  is  logical  —  whether  the  conclusion  reached 
be  justified  or  fallacious  ;  that  is,  the  term  logical  covers 
both  the  logically  good  and  the  illogical  or  the  logically 
bad.  In  its  narrowest  sense,  the  term  logical  refers 
only  to  what  is  demonstrated  to  follow  necessarily 
from  premises  that  are  definite  in  meaning  and  that  are 
either  self -evidently  true,  or  that  have  been  previously 
proved  to  be  true.  Stringency  of  proof  is  here  the 
equivalent  of  the  logical.  In  this  sense  mathematics 
and  formal  logic  (perhaps  as  a  branch  of  mathematics) 
alone  are  strictly  logical.  Logical,  however,  is  used  in 
a  third  sense,  which  is  at  once  more  vital  and  more 
practical;  to  denote,  namely, the  systematic  care,  nega- 
tive and  positive,  taken  to  safeguard  reflection  so  that  it 
may  yield  the  best  results  under  the  given  conditions. 
If  only  the  word  artificial  were  associated  with  the  idea 

56 


MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING    57 

of  art,  or  expert  skill  gained  through  voluntary  appren- 
ticeship (instead  of  suggesting  the  factitious  and  unreal), 
we  might  say  that  logical  refers  to  artificial  thought. 

In  this  sense,  the  word  logical  is  synonymous  with  Care, 
wide-awake,  thorough,  and  careful  reflection  —  thought 


in  its  best  sense  (ante,  p.  5).     Reflection  is  turning  a  exactness 

topic  over  in  various  aspects  and  in  various  lights  so  of  theiogfcal 

that  nothing  significant  about  it  shall  be  overlooked  — 

almost  as  one  might  turn  a  stone  over  to  see  what  its 

hidden  side  is  like  or  what  is  covered  by  it.     Thoughtful- 

ness  means,  practically,  the  same  thing  as  careful  atten- 

tion ;  to  give  our  mind  to  a  subject  is  to  give  heed  to  it, 

to  take  pains  with  it.     In    speaking  of  reflection,  we 

naturally    use   the   words   weigh,  ponder,   deliberate  — 

terms  implying  a  certain  delicate  and  scrupulous  balanc- 

ing of  things  against  one  another.    Closely  related  names 

are    scrutiny,    examination,    consideration,   inspection  — 

terms  which  imply  close  and  careful  vision.     Again,  to 

think  is  to  relate  things  to  one  another  definitely,  to  "  put 

two  and  two  together  "  as  we  say.     Analogy  with  the 

accuracy  and  definiteness  of  mathematical  combinations 

gives  us  such  expressions  as  calculate,  reckon,  account 

for;  and  even  reason  itself  —  ratio.     Caution,  careful- 

ness, thoroughness,  definiteness,  exactness,  orderliness, 

methodic  arrangement,  are,  then,  the  traits  by  which  we 

mark  off  the  logical  from  what  is  random  and  casual 

on  one  side,  and  from  what  is  academic  and  formal  on 

the  other. 

No  argument  is  needed  to  point  out  that  the  edu-  whole 
cator  is  concerned  with  the  logical  in  its  practical  and  f1^6.0*  °f  , 

intellectual 

vital  sense.     Argument  is  perhaps  needed  to  show  that  education  is 
the  intellectual  (as  distinct  from  themorat)  end  of  e  due  a-  of™*^ 
tion  is  entirely  and  only  the  logical  in  this  sense  ;  namely,  disposition 


58 


HOW  WE  THINK 


False  oppo- 


psycho- 


Opposing 
totheT'Tai 


Neglect  of 


the  formation  of  careful,  alert,  and  thorough  habits  of 
thinking:  The  chief  difficulty  in  the  way  of  recognition 
of  this  principle  is  a  false  conception  of  the  relation  be- 
tween  tne  psychological  tendencies  of  an  individual  and 
his  logical  achievements.  If  it  be  assumed  —  as  it  is  so 
frequently  —  that  these  have,  intrinsically,  nothing  to  do 
with  each  other,  then  logical  training  is  inevitably  re- 
garded as  something  foreign  and  extraneous,  something 
to  be  ingrafted  upon  the  individual  from  without,  so 
that  it  is  absurd  to  identify  the  object  of  education  with 
the  development  of  logical  power. 

The  conception  that  the  psychology  of  individuals 
has  no  intrinsic  connections  with  logical  methods  and  re- 
sults is  held,  curiously  enough,  by  two  opposing  schools 
of  educational  theory.  To  one  school,  the  natural^  is 
Pr^mary  and  fundamental  ;  and  its  tendency  is  to  make 
little  of  distinctly  intellectual  nurture.  Its  mottoes  are 
freedom,  self-expression,  individuality,  spontaneity,  play, 
interest,  natural  unfolding,  and  so  on.  In  its  emphasis 
upon  individual  attitude  and  activity,  it  sets  slight  store 
upon  organized  subject-matter,  or  the  material  of  study, 
and  conceives  method  to  consist  of  various  devices  for 
stimulating  and  evoking,  in  their  natural  order  of  growth, 
the  native  potentialities  of  individuals. 

The  other  school  estimates  highly  the  value  of  the 
logical,  but  conceives  the  natural  tendency  of  individ- 
uals  to  be  averse,  or  at  least  indifferent,  to  logical 
achievement.  It  relies  upon  subject-matter  —  upon 
matter  already  denned  and  classified.  Method,  then,  has 
to  do  with  the  devices  by  which  these  characteristics 
may  be  imported  into  a  mind  naturally  reluctant  and  re- 

1  Denoting  whatever  has  to  do  with  the  natural  constitution  and  func 
tions  of  an  individual. 


MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING    59 

bellious.     Hence  its  mottoes  are  discipline,  instruction, 
restraint,  voluntary  or  conscious  effort,  the  necessity  of 
tasks,  and  so  on.     From  this   point  of   view  studies,  identifica- 
rather   than  attitudes  and  habits,  embody  the  logical  ^^^ 
factor  in  education.     The  mind  becomes  logical  only  by  subject- 
learning  to  conform  to  an  external  subject-matter.     To 
produce  this  conformity,  the  study  should  first  be  ana- 
lyzed (by  text-book  or  teacher)  into  its  logical  elements ; 
then  each  of  these  elements  should  be  denned ;  finally, 
all  of  the   elements  should  be  arranged  in  series  or 
classes  according  to  logical  formulae  or  general  prin- 
ciples.    Then  the  pupil  learns  the  definitions  one  by 
one ;  and  progressively  adding  one  to  another  builds  up 
the  logical  system,  and  thereby  is   himself   gradually 
imbued,  from  without,  with  logical  quality. 

This  description  will  gain  meaning  through  an  illus-  Illustration 
tration.  Suppose  the  subject  is  geography.  The  first 
thing  is  to  give  its  definition,  marking  it  off  from  every 
other  subject.  Then  the  various  abstract  terms  upon 
which  depends  the  scientific  development  of  the  science 
are  stated  and  defined  one  by  one  —  pole,  equator, 
ecliptic,  zone,  —  from  the  simpler  units  to  the  more  com- 
plex which  are  formed  out  of  them ;  then  the  more  con- 
crete elements  are  taken  in  similar  series :  continent, 
island,  coast,  promontory,  cape,  isthmus,  peninsula, 
ocean,  lake,  coast,  gulf,  bay,  and  so  on.  In  acquiring 
this  material,  the  mind  is  supposed  not  only  to  gain  im- 
portant information,  but,  by  accommodating  itself  to 
ready-made  logical  definitions,  generalizations,  and  clas- 
sifications, gradually  to  acquire  logical  habits. 

This  type  of  method  has  been  applied  to  every  sub-  from 
ject  taught  in   the   schools  —  reading,  writing,  music,  drawin§ 
physics,  grammar,  arithmetic.     Drawing,  for  example, 


60  HOW  WE  THINK 

has  been  taught  on  the  theory  that  since  all  pictorial 
representation  is  a  matter  of  combining  straight  and 
curved  lines,  the  simplest  procedure  is  to  have  the  pupil 
acquire  the  ability  first  to  draw  straight  lines  in  various 
positions  (horizontal,  perpendicular,  diagonals  at  various 
angles),  then  typical  curves;  and  finally,  to  combine 
straight  and  curved  lines  in  various  permutations  to  con- 
struct actual  pictures.  This  seemed  to  give  the  ideal 
"logical"  method,  beginning  with  analysis  into  ele- 
ments, and  then  proceeding  in  regular  order  to  more 
and  more  complex  syntheses,  each  element  being  de- 
fined when  used,  and  thereby  clearly  understood.  , 
Formal  Even  when  this  method  in  its  extreme  form  is  not  fol- 

lowed, few  schools  (especially  of  the  middle  or  upper 
elementary  grades)  are  free  from  an  .exaggerated  atten- 
tion to  forms  supposedly  employed  by  the  pupil  if  he 
gets  his  result  logically.  It  is  thought  that  there  are 
certain  steps  arranged  in  a  certain  order,  which  express 
preeminently  an  understanding  of  the  subject,  and  the 
pupil  is  made  to  "  analyze "  his  procedure  into  these 
steps,  i.e.  to  learn  a  certain  routine  formula  of  statement. 
While  this  method  is  usually  at  its  height  in  grammar 
and  arithmetic,  it  invades  also  history  and  even  literature, 
which  are  then  reduced,  under  plea  of  intellectual  train- 
ing, to  "  outlines,"  diagrams,  and  schemes  of  division 
and  subdivision.  In  memorizing  this  simulated  cut  and 
dried  copy  of  the  logic  of  an  adult,  the  child  generally 
is  induced  to  stultify  his  own  subtle  and  vital  logical 
movement  The  adoption  by  teachers  of  this  miscon- 
ception of  logical  method  has  probably  done  more  than 
anything  else  to  bring  pedagogy  into  disrepute  ;  for  to 
many  persons  "  pedagogy "  means  precisely  a  set  of 
mechanical,  self-conscious  devices  for  replacing  by  some 


MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING    6 1 

cast-iron   external  scheme  the  personal  mental  move- 
ment of  the  individual. 

A  reaction  inevitably  occurs  from  the  poor  results  Reaction 
that  accrue  from  these  professedly  "logical"  methods.  ,toTar!L 

*  lack  of  form 

Lack  of  interest  in  study,  habits  of  inattention  and  and  method 
procrastination,  positive  aversion  to  intellectual  applica- 
tion, dependence  upon  sheer  memorizing  and  mechan- 
ical routine  with  only  a  modicum  of  understanding  by 
the  pupil  of  what  he  is  about,  show  that  the  theory  of 
logical  definition,  division,  gradation,  and  system  does 
not  work  out  practically  as  it  is  theoretically  supposed  to 
work.  The  consequent  disposition — as  in  every  reac- 
tion —  is  to  go  to  the  opposite  extreme.  The  "  logical " 
is  thought  to  be  wholly  artificial  and  extraneous ;  teacher 
and  pupil  alike  are  to  turn  their  backs  upon  it,  and  to 
work  toward  the  expression  of  existing  aptitudes  and 
tastes.  Emphasis  upon  natural  tendencies  and  powers 
as  the  only  possible  starting-point  of  development  is 
indeed  wholesome.  But  the  reaction  is  false,  and  hence 
misleading,  in  what  it  ignores  and  denies  :  the  presence 
of  genuinely  intellectual  factors  in  existing  powers  and 
interests. 

What  is  conventionally   termed  logical  (namely,  the  Logic  of  sub 
logical  from  the  standpoint  of  subject-matter)  represents  iect-™atter 
in  truth  the  logic  of  the  trained  adult  mind.     Ability  to  adult  or 
divide  a  subject,  to  define  its  elements,  and  to  group  trainedmind 
them  into  classes  according  to  general  principles  repre- 
sents  logical   capacity   at   its  best  point  reached  after 
thorough  training.     The  mind  that  habitually  exhibits 
skill  in  divisions,  definitions,  generalizations,  and  system- 
atic recapitulations  no  longer  needs  training  in  logical 
methods.    But  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  mind  which 
needs  training  because  it  cannot  perform  these  opera- 


62 


HOW   WE  THINK 


The  imma- 
ture mind 
has  its 
i>wn  logic 


Hence,  the 
psycholog- 
ical and  the 
logical 

represent 
the  two  ends 
of  the  same 
movement 


tions  can  begin  where  the  expert  mind  stops.  The 
logical  from  the  standpoint  of  subject-matter  represents  the 
goal,  the  last  term  of  training,  not  the  point  of  departure. 
In  truth,  the  mind  at  every  stage  of  development  has 
its  own  logic.  The  error  of  the  notion  that  by  appeal  to 
spontaneous  tendencies  and  by  multiplication  of  materials 
we  may  completely  dismiss  logical  considerations,  lies  in 
overlooking  how  large  a  part  curiosity,  inference,  ex- 
perimenting, and  testing  already  play  in  the  pupil's  life. 
Therefore  it  underestimates  the  intellectual  factor  in  the 
more  spontaneous  play  and  work  of  individuals  —  the 
factor  that  alone  is  truly  educative.  Any  teacher  who 
is  alive  to  the  modes  of  thought  naturally  operative  in 
the  experience  of  the  normal  child  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  avoiding  the  identification  of  the  logical  with  a  ready- 
made  organization  of  subject-matter,  as  well  as  the  no- 
tion that  the  only  way  to  escape  this  error  is  to  pay  no 
attention  to  logical  considerations.  Such  a  teacher  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  seeing  that  the  real  problem  of  in- 
tellectual education  is  the  transformation  of  natural 
powers  into  expert,  tested  powers :  the  transformation 
of  more  or  less  casual  curiosity  and  sporadic  suggestion 
into  attitudes  of  alert,  cautious,  and  thorough  inquiry. 
He  will  see  that  the  psychological  and  the  logical,  in- 
stead of  being  opposed  to  each  other  (or  even  independ- 
ent of  each  other),  are  connected  as  the  earlier  and  the 
later  stages  in  one  continuous  process  of  normal  growth. 
The  natural  or  psychological  activities,  even  when  not 
consciously  controlled  by  logical  considerations,  have 
their  own  intellectual  function  and  integrity ;  conscious 
and  deliberate  skill  in  thinking,  when  it  is  achieved, 
makes  habitual  or  second  nature.  The  first  is  already  log- 
ical in  spirit;  the  last,  in  presenting  an  ingrained  disposi- 


MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING    03 

tion  and  attitude,  is  then  as  psychological  (as  personal) 
as  any  caprice  or  chance  impulse  could  be. 

§  2.   Discipline  and  Freedom 

Discipline  of  mind  is  thus,  in  truth,  a  result  rather 
than  a  cause.  Any  mind  is  disciplined  in  a  subject  in 
which  independent  intellectual  initiative  and  control 
have  been  achieved.  Discipline  represents -original  na- 
tive endowment  turned,  through  gradual  exercise,  into  True  and 
effective  power.  So  far  as  a  mind  is  disciplined,  con- 
trol  of  method  in  a  given  subject  has  been  attained 
so  that  the  mind  is  able  to  manage  itself  independently 
without  external  tutelage.  The  aim  of  education  is 
precisely  to  develop  intelligence  of  this  independent 
and  effective  type — a  disciplined  mind.  Discipline  is 
positive  and  constructive. 

Discipline,  however,  is  frequently  regarded  as  some- 
thing negative  —  as  a  painfully  disagreeable  forcing  of 
mind  away  from  channels  congenial  to  it  into  channels 
of  constraint,  a  process  grievous  at  the  time  but  neces- 
sary as  preparation  for  a  more  or  less  remote  future. 
Discipline  is  then  generally  identified  with  drill;  and  Discipline 
drill  is  conceived  after  the  mechanical  analogy  of  driv- 
ing, by  unremitting  blows,  a  foreign  substance  into  a 
resistant  material ;  or  is  imaged  after  the  analogy  of 
the  mechanical  routine  by  which  raw  recruits  are  trained 
to  a  soldierly  bearing  and  habits  that  are  naturally 
wholly  foreign  to  their  possessors.  Training  of  this 
latter  sort,  whether  it  be  called  discipline  or  not,  is  not 
mental  discipline.  Its  aim  and  result  are  not  habits  of 
thinking,  but  uniform  external  modes  of  action.  By 
failing  to  ask  what  he  means  by  discipline,  many  a 
teacher  is  misled  into  supposing  that  he  is  developing 


64  HOW   WE  THINK 

mental  force  and  efficiency  by  methods  which  in  fact 
restrict  and  deaden  intellectual  activity,  and  which  tend 
to  create  mechanical  routine,  or  mental  passivity  and 
servility. 

Asindepend-  When  discipline  is  conceived  in  intellectual  terms  (as 
or  freedom  tne  habitual  power  of  effective  mental  attack),  it  is  iden- 
tified with  freedom  in  its  true  sense.  For  freedom  of 
mind  means  mental  power  capable  of  independent  ex- 
ercise, emancipated  from  the  leading  strings  of  others, 
not  mere  unhindered  external  operation.  When  spon- 
taneity or  naturalness  is  identified  with  more  or  less 
casual  discharge  of  transitory  impulses,  the  tendency  of 
Freedom  the  educator  is  to  supply  a  multitude  of  stimuli  in  order 
that  sPontaneous  activity  may  be  kept  up.  All  sorts  of 
interesting  materials,  equipments,  tools,  modes  of  activity, 
are  provided  in  order  that  there  may  be  no  flagging  of 
free  self-expression.  This  method  overlooks  some  of 
the  essential  conditions  of  the  attainment  of  genuine 
freedom. 

Some  ob-  («)   Direct  immediate  discharge  or  expression  of  an 

stacieneces-  impulsive  tendency  is  fatal  to  thinking.  Only  when  the 
thought  impulse  is  to  some  extent  checked  and  thrown  back 
upon  itself  does  reflection  ensue.  It  is,  indeed,  a  stupid 
error  to  suppose  that  arbitrary  tasks  must  be  imposed 
from  without  in  order  to  furnish  the  factor  of  perplexity 
and  difficulty  which  is  the  necessary  cue  to  thought. 
Every  vital  activity  of  any  depth  and  range  inevitably 
meets  obstacles  in  the  course  of  its  effort  to  realize  it- 
self —  a  fact  that  renders  the  search  for  artificial  or 
external  problems  quite  superfluous.  The  difficulties 
that  present  themselves  within  the  development  of  an 
'  experience  are,  however,  to  be  cherished  by  the  edu- 
cator, not  minimized,  for  they  are  the  natural  stimuli 


MEANS   AND   END   OF   MENTAL  TRAINING        6$ 

to  reflective  inquiry.  Freedom  does  not  consist  in  keep- 
ing up  uninterrupted  and  unimpeded  external  activity, 
but  is  something  achieved  through  conquering,  by  per- 
sonal reflection,  a  way  out  of  the  difficulties  that  prevent 
an  immediate  overflow  and  a  spontaneous  success. 

(£)   The   method   that  emphasizes  the  psychological  intellectual 
and  natural,  but  yet  fails  to  see  what  an  important  part  factorsare 

J  natural 

of  the  natural  tendencies  is  constituted  at  every  period 
of  growth  by  curiosity,  inference,  and  the  desire  to  test, 
cannot  secure  a  natural  development.  In  natural  growth 
each  successive  stage  of  activity  prepares  unconsciously, 
but  thoroughly,  the  conditions  for  the  manifestation  of 
the  next  stage  —  as  in  the  cycle  of  a  plant's  growth. 
There  is  no  ground  for  assuming  that  "thinking"  is  a 
special,  isolated  natural  tendency  that  will  bloom  in- 
evitably in  due  season  simply  because  various  sense  and 
motor  activities  have  been  freely  manifested  before ;  or 
because  observation,  memory,  imagination,  and  manual 
skill  have  been  previously  exercised  without  thought. 
Only  when  thinking  is  constantly  employed  in  using  the 
senses  and  muscles  for  the  guidance  and  application  of 
observations  and  movements,  is  the  way  prepared  for 
subsequent  higher  types  of  thinking. 

At  present,  the  notion  is  current   that   childhood  is  Genesis  of 
almost  entirely  unreflective  —  a  period  of  mere  sensory,  ^^^6° 
motor,  and  memory  development,  while  adolescence  sud-  ous  with 
denly  brings  the  manifestation  of  thought  and  reason,  f 

Adolescence  is  not,  however,  a  synonym  for  magic,  mental 
Doubtless  youth  should  bring  with  it  an  enlargement  of 
the  horizon  of  childhood,  a  susceptibility  to  larger  con- 
cerns and  issues,  a  more  generous  and  a  more  general 
standpoint  toward  nature  and  social  life.  This  develop- 
ment affords  an  opportunity  for  thinking  of  a  more  com- 


66 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Fixation 
of  bad 
mental 
habits 


Genuine 
freedom  is 
intellectual, 
not  external 


prehensive  and  abstract  type  than  has  previously  obtained. 
But  thinking  itself  remains  just  what  it  has  been  all  the 
time :  a  matter  of  following  up  and  testing  the  conclu- 
sions suggested  by  the  facts  and  events  of  life.  Think- 
ing begins  as  soon  as  the  baby  who  has  lost  the  ball 
that  he  is  playing  with  begins  to  foresee  the  possibility 
of  something  not  yet  existing  —  its  recovery ;  and  be- 
gins to  forecast  steps  toward  the  realization  of  this 
possibility,  and,  by  experimentation,  to  guide  his  acts  by 
his  ideas  and  thereby  also  test  the  ideas.  Only  by 
making  the  most  of  the  thought-factor,  already  active 
in  the  experiences  of  childhood,  is  there  any  promise 
or  warrant  for  the  emergence  of  superior  reflective 
power  at  adolescence,  or  at  any  later  period. 

(c)  In  any  case  positive  habits  are  being  formed :  if  not 
habits  of  careful  looking  into  things,  then  habits  of 
hasty,  heedless,  impatient  glancing  over  the  surface ;  if 
not  habits  of  consecutively  following  up  the  suggestions 
that  occur,  then  habits  of  haphazard,  grasshopper-like 
guessing  ;  if  not  habits  of  suspending  judgment  till  in- 
ferences have  been  tested  by  the  examination  of  evi- 
dence, then  habits  of  credulity  alternating  with  flippant 
incredulity,  belief  or  unbelief  being  based,  in  either  case, 
upon  whim,  emotion,  or  accidental  circumstances.  The 
only  way  to  achieve  traits  of  carefulness,  thoroughness, 
and  continuity  (traits  that  are,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
elements  of  the  "logical")  is  by  exercising  these  traits 
from  the  beginning,  and  by  seeing  to  it  that  conditions 
call  for  their  exercise. 

Genuine  freedom,  in  short,  is  intellectual ;  it  rests  in 
the  trained  power  of  thought,  in  ability  to  "turn  things 
over,"  to  look  at  matters  deliberately,  to  judge  whether 
the  amount  and  kind  of  evidence  requisite  for  decision 


MEANS  AND  END  OF  MENTAL  TRAINING   67 

is  at  hand,  and  if  not,  to  tell  where  and  how  to  seek 
such  evidence.  If  a  man's  actions  are  not  guided  by 
thoughtful  conclusions,  then  they  are  guided  by  incon- 
siderate impulse,  unbalanced  appetite,  caprice,  or  the 
circumstances  of  the  moment.  To  cultivate  unhindered, 
unreflective  external  activity  is  to  foster  enslavement, 
for  it  leaves  the  person  at  the  mercy  of  appetite,  sense, 
and  circumstance. 


PART   TWO:    LOGICAL   CONSIDERA- 
TIONS 


Object  of 
Part  Two 


A  simple 
case  of 
practical 
deliberation 


CHAPTER   SIX 
THE  ANALYSIS  OF  A  COMPLETE  ACT  OF  THOUGHT 

AFTER  a  brief  consideration  in  the  first  chapter  of  the 
nature  of  reflective  thinking,  we  turned,  in  the  second, 
to  the  need  for  its  training.  Then  we  took  up  the 
resources,  the  difficulties,  and  the  aim  of  its  training. 
The  purpose  of  this  discussion  was  to  set  before  the 
student  the  general  problem  of  the  training  of  mind. 
The  purport  of  the  second  part,  upon  which  we  are 
now  entering,  is  giving  a  fuller  statement  of  the  nature 
and  normal  growth  of  thinking,  preparatory  to  con- 
sidering in  the  concluding  part  the  special  problems 
that  arise  in  connection  with  its  education. 

In  this  chapter  we  shall  make  an  analysis  of  the 
process  of  thinking  into  its  steps  or  elementary  constitu- 
ents, basing  the  analysis  upon  descriptions  of  a  num- 
ber of  extremely  simple,  but  genuine,  cases  of  reflective 
experience.1 

i.  "The  other  day  when  I  was  down  town  on  i6th 
Street  a  clock  caught  my  eye.  I  saw  that  the  hands 
pointed  to  12.20.  This  suggested  that  I  had  an  engage- 
ment at  1 24th  Street,  at  one  o'clock.  I  reasoned  that 

1  These  are  taken,  almost  verbatim,  from  the  class  papers  of  students. 

68 


ANALYSIS   OF  A  COMPLETE   ACT    OF  THOUGHT       69 

as  it  had  taken  me  an  hour  to  come  down  on  a  surface 
car,  I  should  probably  be  twenty  minutes  late  if  I  re- 
turned the  same  way.  I  might  save  twenty  minutes  by 
a  subway  express.  But  was  there  a  station  near  ?  If 
not,  I  might  lose  more  than  twenty  minutes  in  looking 
for  one.  Then  I  thought  of  the  elevated,  and  I  saw 
there  was  such  a  line  within  two  blocks.  But  where 
was  the  station  ?  If  it  were  several  blocks  above  or 
below  the  street  I  was  on,  I  should  lose  time  instead  of 
gaining  it.  My  mind  went  back  to  the  subway  express 
as  quicker  than  the  elevated  ;  furthermore,  I  remem- 
bered that  it  went  nearer  than  the  elevated  to  the  part 
of  1 24th  Street  I  wished  to  reach,  so  that  time  would 
be  saved  at  the  end  of  the  journey.  I  concluded  in 
favor  of  the  subway,  and  reached  my  destination  by  one 
o'clock." 

2.    "  Projecting  nearly  horizontally  from   the   upper  A  simple 
deck  of  the  ferryboat  on  which  I  daily  cross  the  river,  ca?e  of 

J  reflection 

is  a  long  white  pole,  bearing  a  gilded  ball  at  its  tip.  It  upon  an 
suggested  a  flagpole  when  I  first  saw  it ;  its  color,  observati011 
shape,  and  gilded  ball  agreed  with  this  idea,  and  these 
reasons  seemed  to  justify  me  in  this  belief.  But  soon 
difficulties  presented  themselves.  The  pole  was  nearly 
horizontal,  an  unusual  position  for  a  flagpole;  in  the 
next  place,  there  was  no  pulley,  ring,  or  cord  by  which 
to  attach  a  flag ;  finally,  there  were  elsewhere  two  verti- 
cal staffs  from  which  flags  were  occasionally  flown.  It 
seemed  probable  that  the  pole  was  not  there  for  flag- 
flying. 

"  I  then  tried  to  imagine  all  possible  purposes  of  such 
a  pole,  and  to  consider  for  which  of  these  it  was  best 
suited  :  (a)  Possibly  it  was  an  ornament.  But  as  all  the 
ferryboats  and  even  the  tugboats  carried  like  poles, 


HOW   WE  THINK 


A  simple 
case  of 
reflection 
involving 

experiment 


this  hypothesis  was  rejected.  (£)  Possibly  it  was  the 
terminal  of  a  wireless  telegraph.  But  the  same  consid- 
erations made  this  improbable.  Besides,  the  more  nat- 
ural place  for  such  a  terminal  would  be  the  highest 
part  of  the  boat,  on  top  of  the  pilot  house,  (c)  Its  pur- 
pose might  be  to  point  out  the  direction  in  which  the 
boat  is  moving. 

"  In  support  of  this  conclusion,  I  discovered  that  the 
pole  was  lower  than  the  pilot  house,  so  that  the  steers- 
man could  easily  see  it.  Moreover,  the  tip  was  enough 
higher  than  the  base,  so  that,  from  the  pilot's  position, 
it  must  appear  to  project  far  out  in  front  of  the  boat. 
Moreover,  the  pilot  being  near  the  front  of  the  boat,  he 
would  need  some  such  guide  as  to  its  direction.  Tugboats 
would  also  need  poles  for  such  a  purpose.  This  hy- 
pothesis was  so  much  more  probable  than  the  others 
that  I  accepted  it.  I  formed  the  conclusion  that  the 
pole  was  set  up  for  the  purpose  of  showing  the  pilot 
the  direction  in  which  the  boat  pointed,  to  enable  him 
to  steer  correctly." 

3.  "  In  washing  tumblers  in  hot  soapsuds  and  placing 
them  mouth  downward  on  a  plate,  bubbles  appeared 
on  the  outside  of  the  mouth  of  the  tumblers  and 
then  went  inside.  Why  ?  The  presence  of  bubbles 
suggests  air,  which  I  note  must  come  from  inside  the 
tumbler.  I  see  that  the  soapy  water  on  the  plate  pre- 
vents escape  of  the  air  save  as  it  may  be  caught  in  bubbles. 
But  why  should  air  leave  the  tumbler  ?  There  was  no 
substance  entering  to  force  it  out.  It  must  have  ex- 
panded. It  expands  by  increase  of  heat  or  by  de- 
crease of  pressure,  or  by  both.  Could  the  air  have 
become  heated  after  the  tumbler  was  taken  from  the  hot 
suds  ?  Clearly  not  the  air  that  was  already  entangled 


ANALYSIS   OF   A   COMPLETE   ACT    OF   THOUGHT       71 

in  the  water.  If  heated  air  was  the  cause,  cold  air 
must  have  entered  in  transferring  the  tumblers  from 
the  suds  to  the  plate.  I  test  to  see  if  this  supposition 
is  true  by  taking  several  more  tumblers  out.  Some 
I  shake  so  as  to  make  sure  of  entrapping  cold  air  in 
them.  Some  I  take  out  holding  mouth  downward  in 
order  to  prevent  cold  air  from  entering.  Bubbles  ap- 
pear on  the  outside  of  every  one  of  the  former  and  on 
none  of  the  latter.  I  must  be  right  in  my  inference. 
Air  from  the  outside  must  have  been  expanded  by  the 
heat  of  the  tumbler,  which  explains  the  appearance  of 
the  bubbles  on  the  outside. 

"  But  why  do  they  then  go  inside  ?  Cold  contracts. 
The  tumbler  cooled  and  also  the  air  inside  it.  Tension 
was  removed,  and  hence  bubbles  appeared  inside.  To 
be  sure  of  this,  I  test  by  placing  a  cup  of  ice  on  the 
tumbler  while  the  bubbles  are  still  forming  outside. 
They  soon  reverse." 

These  three  cases  have  been  purposely  selected  so  as  The  three 
to   form   a  series   from  the  more  rudimentary  to  more 

* 

complicated  cases  of  reflection.  The  first  illustrates  the 
kind  of  thinking  done  by  every  one  during  the  day's 
business,  in  which  neither  the  data,  nor  the  ways  of 
dealing  with  them,  take  one  outside  the  limits  of  every- 
day experience.  The  last  furnishes  a  case  in  which 
neither  problem  nor  mode  of  solution  would  have  been 
likely  to  occur  except  to  one  with  some  prior  scientific 
training.  The  second  case  forms  a  natural  transition ; 
its  materials  lie  well  within  the  bounds  of  everyday, 
unspecialized  experience  ;  but  the  problem,  instead  of 
being  directly  involved  in  the  person's  business,  arises 
indirectly  out  of  his  activity,  and  accordingly  appeals 
to  a  somewhat  theoretic  and  impartial  interest  We 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Five  distinct 
steps  in 
reflection 


i.  The  occur- 
rence of  a 
difficulty 


(a)  in  the 
lack  of 
adaptation 
of  means 
to  end 


shall  deal,  in  a  later  chapter,  with  the  evolution  of 
abstract  thinking  out  of  that  which  is  relatively  practical 
and  direct ;  here  we  are  concerned  only  with  the  com- 
mon elements  found  in  all  the  types. 

Upon  examination,  each  instance  reveals,  more  or  less 
clearly,  five  logically  distinct  steps :  (z)  a  felt  difficulty  ; 
(«')  its  location  and  definition;  (iii)  suggestion  of  pos- 
sible solution ;  (iv)  development  by  reasoning  of  the 
bearings  of  the  suggestion ;  (y)  further  observation  and 
experiment  leading  to  its  acceptance  or  rejection;  that 
is,  the  conclusion  of  belief  or  disbelief. 

i.  The  first  and  second  steps  frequently  fuse  into 
one.  The  difficulty  may  be  felt  with  sufficient  definite- 
ness  as  to  set  the  mind  at  once  speculating  upon  its 
probable  solution,  or  an  undefined  uneasiness  and  shock 
may  come  first,  leading  only  later  to  definite  attempt  to 
find  out  what  is  the  matter.  Whether  the  two  steps 
are  distinct  or  blended,  there  is  the  factor  emphasized 
in  our  original  account  of  reflection — viz.  the  perplexity 
or  problem.  In  the  first  of  the  three  cases  cited,  the 
difficulty  resides  in  the  conflict  between  conditions  at 
hand  and  a  desired  and  intended  result,  between  an  end 
and  the  means  for  reaching  it.  The  purpose  of  keep- 
ing an  engagement  at  a  certain  time,  and  the  existing 
hour  taken  in  connection  with  the  location,  are  not  con- 
gruous. The  object  of  thinking  is  to  introduce  con- 
gruity  between  the  two.  The  given  conditions  cannot 
themselves  be  altered ;  time  will  not  go  backward  nor 
will  the  distance  between  i6th  Street  and  I24th  Street 
shorten  itself.  The  problem  is  the  discovery  of  inter- 
vening terms  which  when  inserted  between  the  remoter 
end  and  the  given  means  will  harmonize  them  with  each 
other. 


ANALYSIS   OF  A  COMPLETE  ACT    OF  THOUGHT       73 

In  the  second  case,  the  difficulty  experienced  is  the  (ft)  inidentt 
incompatibility  of  a  suggested  and  (temporarily)  ac-  ^^^eiot 
cepted  belief  that  the  pole  is  a  flagpole,  with  certain  an  object 
other  facts.  Suppose  we  symbolize  the  qualities  that 
suggest  flagpole  by  the  letters  a,  b,  c ;  those  that  op- 
pose this  suggestion  by  the  letters/,  qt  r.  There  is,  of 
course,  nothing  inconsistent  in  the  qualities  themselves ; 
but  in  pulling  the  mind  to  different  and  incongruous 
conclusions  they  conflict  —  hence  the  problem.  Here 
the  object  is  the  discovery  of  some  object  (<9),  of  which 
a,  b,  c,  and/,  q,  r,  may  all  be  appropriate  traits  —  just 
as,  in  our  first  case,  it  is  to  discover  a  course  of  action 
which  will  combine  existing  conditions  and  a  remoter  re- 
sult in  a  single  whole.  The  method  of  solution  is  also 
the  same :  discovery  of  intermediate  qualities  (the  posi- 
tion of  the  pilot  house,  of  the  pole,  the  need  of  an  index 
to  the  boat's  direction)  symbolized  by  d,  g,  /,  0,  which 
bind  together  otherwise  incompatible  traits. 

In  the  third  case,  an  observer  trained  to  the  idea  of  (c)  in  ex- 
natural  laws  or  uniformities  finds  something  odd  or  ex- 
ceptional  in  the  behavior  of  the  bubbles.     The  problem  event 
is  to  reduce  the  apparent  anomalies  to  instances  of  well- 
established  laws.     Here  the  method  of  solution  is  also 
to  seek  for  intermediary  terms  which  will  connect,  by 
regular  linkage,  the  seemingly  extraordinary  movements 
of  the  bubbles  with  the  conditions  known  to  follow  from 
processes  supposed  to  be  operative. 

2.  As  already  noted,  the  first  two  steps,  the  feeling  2.  Definition 
of  a  discrepancy,  or  difficulty,  and  the  acts  of  observa- 
tion  that  serve  to  define  the  character  of  the  difficulty 
may,  in  a  given  instance,  telescope  together.  In  cases 
of  striking  novelty  or  unusual  perplexity,  the  difficulty, 
however,  is  likely  to  present  itself  at  first  as  a  shock,  as 


74  HOW   WE   THINK 

emotional  disturbance,  as  a  more  or  less  vague  feeling 
of  the  unexpected,  of  something  queer,  strange,  funny, 
or  disconcerting.  In  such  instances,  there  are  neces- 
sary observations  deliberately  calculated  to  bring  to 
light  just  what  is  the  trouble,  or  to  make  clear  the  spe- 
cific character  of  the  problem.  In  large  measure,  the 
existence  or  non-existence  of  this  step  makes  the  differ- 
ence between  reflection  proper,  or  safeguarded  critical 
inference  and  uncontrolled  thinking.  Where  sufficient 
pains  to  locate  the  difficulty  are  not  taken,  suggestions  for 
its  resolution  must  be  more  or  less  random.  Imagine  a 
doctor  called  in  to  prescribe  for  a  patient.  The  patient 
tells  him  some  things  that  are  wrong ;  his  experienced 
eye,  at  a  glance,  takes  in  other  signs  of  a  certain  dis- 
ease. But  if  he  permits  the  suggestion  of  this  special 
disease  to  take  possession  prematurely  of  his  mind,  to 
become  an  accepted  conclusion,  his  scientific  thinking  is 
by  that  much  cut  short.  A  large  part  of  his  technique, 
as  a  skilled  practitioner,  is  to  prevent  the  acceptance  of 
the  first  suggestions  that  arise ;  even,  indeed,  to  postpone 
the  occurrence  of  any  very  definite  suggestion  till  the 
trouble  —  the  nature  of  the  problem  —  has  been  thor- 
oughly explored.  In  the  case  of  a  physician  this  pro- 
ceeding is  known  as  diagnosis,  but  a  similar  inspection 
is  required  in  every  novel  and  complicated  situation  to 
prevent  rushing  to  a  conclusion.  The  essence  of  criti- 
cal thinking  is  suspended  judgment ;  and  the  essence 
of  this  suspense  is  inquiry  to  determine  the  nature  of 
the  problem  before  proceeding  to  attempts  at  its  solu- 
tion. This,  more  than  any  other  thing,  transforms  mere 
inference  into  tested  inference,  suggested  conclusions 
into  proof. 

3.   The  third  factor  is  suggestion.     The  situation  in 


ANALYSIS   OF   A   COMPLETE   ACT    OF   THOUGHT       75 

which  the  perplexity  occurs  calls  up  something  not  3-  Occur- 
present  to  the  senses  :  the  present  location,  the  thought  suggested 
of  subway  or  elevated  train ;  the  stick  before  the  eyes,  explanation 

.  ,  r        n  r        or  possible 

the  idea  of  a  flagpole,  an  ornament,  an  apparatus  for  solution 
wireless  telegraphy  ;  the  soap  bubbles,  the  law  of  expan- 
sion of  bodies  through  heat  and  of  their  contraction 
through  cold.  («)  Suggestion  is  the  very  heart  of  in- 
ference ;  it  involves  going  from  what  is  present  to  some- 
thing absent.  Hence,  it  is  more  or  less  speculative, 
adventurous.  Since  inference  goes  beyond  what  is  ac- 
tually present,  it  involves  a  leap,  a  jump,  the  propriety 
of  which  cannot  be  absolutely  warranted  in  advance,  no 
matter  what  precautions  be  taken.  Its  control  is  in- 
direct, on  the  one  hand,  involving  the  formation  of  habits 
of  mind  which  are  at  once  enterprising  and  cautious ; 
and  on  the  other  hand,  involving  the  selection  and 
arrangement  of  the  particular  facts  upon  perception  of 
which  suggestion  issues,  (b}  The  suggested  conclusion 
so  far  as  it  is  not  accepted  but  only  tentatively  enter- 
tained constitutes  an  idea.  Synonyms  for  this  are  sup- 
position, conjecture,  guess,  hypothesis,  and  (in  elaborate 
cases)  theory.  Since  suspended  belief,  or  the  postpone- 
ment of  a  final  conclusion  pending  further  evidence, 
depends  partly  upon  the  presence  of  rival  conjectures 
as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue  or  the  probable  explana- 
tion to  favor,  cultivation  of  a  variety  of  alternative 
suggestions  is  an  important  factor  in  good  thinking. 

4.    The  process  of  developing  the  bearings  —  or,  as  4.  The 
they  are  more  technically  termed,  the  implications  —  of  ^j011*!.. 

.-        _,  elaboration 

any  idea  with  respect  to  any  problem,  is  termed  reason-  of  an  idea 
ing.1  As  an  idea  is  inferred  from  given  facts,  so  reasoning 

1  This  term  is  sometimes  extended  to  denote  the  entire  reflective  pro- 
cess— just  as  inference  (which  in  the  sense  of  test  is  best  reserved  for 


76  HOW   WE  THINK 

sets  out  from  an  idea.  The  idea  of  elevated  road  is  de- 
veloped into  the  idea  of  difficulty  of  locating  station,  length 
of  time  occupied  on  the  journey,  distance  of  station  at 
the  other  end  from  place  to  be  reached.  In  the  second 
case,  the  implication  of  a  flagpole  is  seen  to  be  a  verti- 
cal position ;  of  a  wireless  apparatus,  location  on  a  high 
part  of  the  ship  and,  moreover,  absence  from  every 
casual  tugboat ;  while  the  idea  of  index  to  direction  in 
which  the  boat  moves,  when  developed,  is  found  to  cover 
all  the  details  of  the  case. 

Reasoning  has  the  same  effect  upon  a  suggested 
solution  as  more  intimate  and  extensive  observation  has 
upon  the  original  problem.  Acceptance  of  the  sugges- 
tion in  its  first  form  is  prevented  by  looking  into  it  more 
thoroughly.  Conjectures  that  seem  plausible  at  first 
sight  are  often  found  unfit  or  even  absurd  when  their 
full  consequences  are  traced  out.  Even  when  reason- 
ing out  the  bearings  of  a  supposition  does  not  lead  to  re- 
jection, it  develops  the  idea  into  a  form  in  which  it  is 
more  apposite  to  the  problem.  Only  when,  for  example, 
the  conjecture  that  a  pole  was  an  index-pole  had  been 
thought  out  into  its  bearings  could  its  particular  appli- 
cability to  the  case  in  hand  be  judged.  Suggestions 
at  first  seemingly  remote  and  wild  are  frequently  so 
transformed  by  being  elaborated  into  what  follows  from 
them  as  to  become  apt  and  fruitful.  The  development 
of  an  idea  through  reasoning  helps  at  least  to  supply 
the  intervening  or  intermediate  terms  that  link  together 
into  a  consistent  whole  apparently  discrepant  extremes 
(ante,  p.  72). 

the  third  step)  is  sometimes  used  in  the  same  broad  sense.  But  reasoning 
(or  ratiocination)  seems  to  be  peculiarly  adapted  to  express  what  the 
older  writers  called  the  "notional"  cr  "dialectic"  process  of  developing 
the  meaning  of  a  given  idea. 


ANALYSIS   OF  A  COMPLETE  ACT    OF   THOUGHT       77 

5.    The  concluding  and  conclusive  step  is  some  kind  5.  corrob- 

of   experimental   corroboration.    or   verification,    of   the  ora^on  of 

an  idea  and 

conjectural  idea.     Reasoning  shows  that  if  the  idea  be  formation  of 

adopted,  certain  consequences  follow.     So  far  the  con-  belief0 " 

elusion  is  hypothetical  or  conditional.     If  we  look  and 

find  present  all  the  conditions  demanded  by  the  theory, 

and  if  we  find  the  characteristic  traits  called  for  by 

rival  alternatives  to  be  lacking,  the  tendency  to  believe, 

to   accept,    is    almost    irresistible.      Sometimes    direct 

observation   furnishes  corroboration,  as  in  the  case  of 

the  pole  on  the  boat.     In  other  cases,  as  in  that  of  the 

bubbles,  experiment  is  required  ;  that  is,  conditions  are 

deliberately  arranged  in  accord  with  the  requirements  of 

an  idea  or  hypothesis  to  see  if  the  results  theoretically 

indicated  by  the  idea  actually  occur.     If  it  is  found  that 

the    experimental   results   agree   with    the   theoretical, 

or  rationally  deduced,  results,  and  if  there  is  reason  to 

believe  that  only  the  conditions  in  question  would  yield 

such  results,  the  confirmation  is  so  strong  as  to  induce  a 

conclusion  —  at  least  until  contrary  facts  shall  indicate 

the  advisability  of  its  revision. 

Observation  exists  at  the  beginning  and  again  at  the  Thinking 
end  of  the  process :  at  the  beginning,  to  determine  more  between 
definitely  and  precisely  the  nature  of  the  difficulty  to  be  observations 
dealt  with  ;  at  the  end,  to  test  the  value  of  some  hypo-  ginning  and 
thetically  entertained  conclusion.     Between  those  two  at*heend 
termini  of  observation,  we   find  the  more  distinctively 
mental  aspects  of  the  entire  thought-cycle  :  (/')  inference, 
the   suggestion    of    an    explanation    or   solution;    and 
(it)  reasoning,  the  development  of  the  bearings  and  im- 
plications of  the  suggestion.    Reasoning  requires  some 
experimental  observation   to   confirm   it,   while  experi- 
ment can  be  economically  and  fruitfully  conducted  only 


HOW   WE  THINK 


The  trained 
mind  one 
that  judges 
the  extent 
of  each  step 
advisable  in 
a  given 
situation 


on  the  basis  of  an  idea  that  has  been  tentatively  devel- 
oped by  reasoning. 

The  disciplined,  or  logically  trained,  mind  —  the  aim  of 
the  educative  process  —  is  the  mind  able  to  judge  how 
far  each  of  these  steps  needs  to  be  carried  in  any  par- 
ticular situation.  No  cast-iron  rules  can  be  laid  down. 
Each  case  has  to  be  dealt  with  as  it  arises,  on  the  basis 
of  its  importance  and  of  the  context  in  which  it  occurs. 
To  take  too  much  pains  in  one  case  is  as  foolish  —  as 
illogical  —  as  to  take  too  little  in  another.  At  one 
extreme,  almost  any  conclusion  that  insures  prompt 
and  unified  action  may  be  better  than  any  long  delayed 
conclusion ;  while  at  the  other,  decision  may  have  to 
be  postponed  for  a  long  period  —  perhaps  for  a  life- 
time. The  trained  mind  is  the  one  that  best  grasps  the 
degree  of  observation,  forming  of  ideas,  reasoning,  and 
experimental  testing  required  in  any  special  case,  and  that 
profits  the  most,  in  future  thinking,  by  mistakes  made  in 
the  past.  What  is  important  is  that  the  mind  should 
be  sensitive  to  problems  and  skilled  in  methods  of  attack 
and  solution. 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 

SYSTEMATIC  INFERENCE:   INDUCTION  AND  DE- 
DUCTION 

§  i.    The  Double  Movement  of  Reflection 

THE  characteristic  outcome  of  thinking  we  saw  to  be  Back  and 
the  organization  of  facts  and  conditions  which,  just  as  t^.een  e" 
they  stand,  are  isolated,  fragmentary,  and  discrepant,  the  facts  and 
organization  being  effected  through  the  introduction  of 
connecting  links,  or  middle  terms.     The  facts  as  they 
stand  are  the  data,  the  raw  material  of  reflection ;  their 
lack  of  coherence  perplexes  and  stimulates  to  reflection. 
There  follows  the  suggestion  of  some  meaning  which,  if 
it  can  be  substantiated,  will  give  a  whole  in  which  vari- 
ous fragmentary  and  seemingly  incompatible  data  find 
their  proper  place.     The  meaning  suggested  supplies  a 
mental  platform,   an  intellectual   point   of   view,  from 
which  to  note  and  define  the  data  more  carefully,  to 
seek  for  additional  observations,  and  to  institute,  experi- 
mentally, changed  conditions. 

There  is  thus  a  double  movement  in  all  reflection :  a  inductive 
movement  from  the  given  partial  and  confused  data  to 
a  suggested  comprehensive  (or  inclusive)  entire  situation ; 
and  back  from  this  suggested  whole  —  which  as  sug- 
gested is  a  meaning,  an  idea  —  to  the  particular  facts, 
so  as  to  connect  these  with  one  another  and  with  addi- 
tional facts  to  which  the  suggestion  has  directed  atten- 
tion. Roughly  speaking,  the  first  of  these  movements 

79 


So 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Hurry  versus 
caution 


Continuity 
of  relation- 
ship the 
mark  of 
the  latter 


is  inductive ;  the  second  deductive.  A  complete  act  of 
thought  involves  both — it  involves,  that  is,  a  fruitful 
interaction  of  observed  (or  recollected)  particular  con- 
siderations and  of  inclusive  and  far-reaching  (general) 
meanings. 

This  double  movement  to  and  from  a  meaning  may 
occur,  however,  in  a  casual,  uncritical  way,  or  in  a  cautious 
and  regulated  manner.  To  think  means,  in  any  case,  to 
bridge  a  gap  in  experience,  to  bind  together  facts  or 
deeds  otherwise  isolated.  But  we  may  make  only  a 
hurried  jump  from  one  consideration  to  another,  allow- 
ing our  aversion  to  mental  disquietude  to  override  the 
gaps ;  or,  we  may  insist  upon  noting  the  road  traveled 
in  making  connections.  We  may,  in  short,  accept 
readily  any  suggestion  that  seems  plausible ;  or  we  may 
hunt  out  additional  factors,  new  difficulties,  to  see  whether 
the  suggested  conclusion  really  ends  the  matter.  The 
latter  method  involves  definite  formulation  of  the  con- 
necting links ;  the  statement  of  a  principle,  or,  in  logical 
phrase,  the  use  of  a  universal.  If  we  thus  formulate  the 
whole  situation,  the  original  data  are  transformed  into 
premises  of  reasoning;  the  final  belief  is  a  logical  or 
rational  conclusion,  not  a  mere  de  facto  termination. 

The  importance  of  connections  binding  isolated  item* 
into  a  coherent  single  whole  is  embodied  in  all  the  phrases 
that  denote  the  relation  of  premises  and  conclusions  to 
each  other,  (i)  The  premises  are  called  grounds, 
foundations,  bases,  and  are  said  to  underlie,  uphold, 
support  the  conclusion.  (2)  We  "  descend  "  from  the 
premises  to  the  conclusion,  and  "  ascend  "  or  "  mount " 
in  the  opposite  direction  —  as  a  river  may  be  continuously 
traced  from  source  to  sea  or  vice  versa.  So  the  con- 
clusion springs,  flows,  or  is  drawn  from  its  premises. 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  8l 

(3)  The  conclusion  — as  the  word  itself  implies  —  closes, 
shuts  in,  locks  up  together  the  various  factors  stated 
in  the  premises.  We  say  that  the  premises  "contain" 
the  conclusion,  and  that  the  conclusion  "  contains  "  the 
premises,  thereby  marking  our  sense  of  the  inclusive 
and  comprehensive  unity  in  which  the  elements  of 
reasoning  are  bound  tightly  together.1  Systematic  in- 
ference, in  short,  means  the  recognition  of  definite 
relations  of  interdependence  between  considerations  pre- 
viously unorganised  and  disconnected,  this  recognition 
being  brought  about  by  the  discovery  and  insertion  of 
new  facts  and  properties. 

This  more  systematic  thinking  is,  however,  like  the  Scientific 
cruder   forms   in  its  double  movement,  the  movement  mductlon 

and 
toward  the  suggestion  or  hypothesis  and  the  movement  deduction 

back  to  facts.  The  difference  is  in  the  greater  conscious 
care  with  which  each  phase  of  the  process  is  performed. 
The  conditions  iinder  which  suggestions  are  allowed  to 
spring  up  and  develop  are  regulated.  Hasty  acceptance 
of  any  idea  that  is  plausible,  that  seems  to  solve  the 
difficulty,  is  changed  into  a  conditional  acceptance 
pending  further  inquiry.  The  idea  is  accepted  as  a 
working  hypothesis,  as  something  to  guide  investigation 
and  bring  to  light  new  facts,  not  as  a  final  conclusion. 
When  pains  are  taken  to  make  each  aspect  of  the  move- 
ment as  accurate  as  possible,  the  movement  toward 
building  up  the  idea  is  known  as  inductive  discovery 
(induction,  for  short) ;  the  movement  toward  developing, 
applying,  and  testing,  as  deductive  proof  (deduction,  for 
short). 

While  induction  moves  from  fragmentary  details  (or 

1  See  Vailati,  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and  Scientific  Methods, 
Vol.  V,  No.  12. 


82 


HOW   WE   THINK 


nv    ai 


Illustration 
from  every- 
day ex- 
perience 


Particular  particulars)  to  a  connected  view  of  a  situation  (universal), 
deduction  begins  with  the  latter  and  works  back  again 
to  particulars,  connecting  them  and  binding  them  to- 
gether.  The  inductive  movement  is  toward  discovery  of 
a  binding  principle  ;  the  deductive  toward  its  testing  — 
confirming,  refuting,  modifying  it  on  the  basis  of  its  ca- 
pacity to  interpret  isolated  details  into  a  unified  expe- 
rience. So  far  as  we  conduct  each  of  these  processes  in 
the  light  of  the  other,  we  get  valid  discovery  or  verified 
critical  thinking. 

A  commonplace  illustration  may  enforce  the  points 
of  this  formula.  A  man  who  has  left  his  rooms  in  order 
finds  them  upon  his  return  in  a  state  of  confusion,  arti- 
cles being  scattered  at  random.  Automatically,  the  no- 
tion comes  to  his  mind  that  burglary  would  account  for 
the  disorder.  He  has  not  seen  the  burglars  ;  their  pres- 
ence is  not  a  fact  of  observation,  but  is  a  thought,  an 
idea.  Moreover,  the  man  has  no  special  burglars  in 
mind  ;  it  is  the  relation,  the  meaning  of  burglary  —  some- 
thing general  —  that  comes  to  mind.  The  state  of  his 
room  is  perceived  and  is  particular,  definite,  —  exactly 
as  it  is;  burglars  are  inferred,  and  have  a  general  sta- 
tus. The  state  of  the  room  is  afacf,  certain  and  speak- 
ing for  itself;  the  presence  of  burglars  is  a  possible 
meaning  which  may  explain  the  facts. 

of  induction,  So  far  there  is  an  inductive  tendency,  suggested  by 
particular  and  present  facts.  In  the  same  inductive 
way,  it  occurs  to  him  that  his  children  are  mischievous, 
and  that  they  may  have  thrown  the  things  about.  This 
rival  hypothesis  (or  conditional  principle  of  explanation) 
prevents  him  from  dogmatically  accepting  the  first  sug- 
gestion. Judgment  is  held  in  suspense  and  a  positive 
conclusion  postponed. 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  83 

Then  deductive  movement  begins.  Further  observa-  of  deduction 
tions,  recollections,  reasonings  are  conducted  on  the 
basis  of  a  development  of  the  ideas  suggested :  if  bur- 
glars were  responsible,  such  and  such  things  would  have 
happened ;  articles  of  value  would  be  missing.  Here  the 
man  is  going  from  a  general  principle  or  relation  to  spe- 
cial features  that  accompany  it,  to  particulars,  —  not  back, 
however,  merely  to  the  original  particulars  (which  would 
be  fruitless  or  take  him  in  a  circle),  but  to  new  details, 
the  actual  discovery  or  nondiscovery  of  which  will  test 
the  principle.  The  man  .turns  to  a  box  of  valuables ; 
some  things  are  gone ;  some,  however,  are  still  there. 
Perhaps  he  has  himself  removed  the  missing  articles, 
but  has  forgotten  it.  His  experiment  is  not  a  decisive 
test.  He  thinks  of  the  silver  in  the  sideboard  —  the 
children  would  not  have  taken  that  nor  would  he  absent- 
mindedly  have  changed  its  place.  He  looks ;  all  the 
solid  ware  is  gone.  The  conception  of  burglars  is  con- 
firmed ;  examination  of  windows  and  doors  shows  that 
they  have  been  tampered  with.  Belief  culminates  ;  the 
original  isolated  facts  have  been  woven  into  a  coherent 
fabric.  The  idea  first  suggested  (inductively)  has  been 
employed  to  reason  out  hypothetically  certain  addi- 
tional particulars  not  yet  experienced,  that  ought  to  be 
there,  if  the  suggestion  is  correct.  Then  new  acts  of 
observation  have  shown  that  the  particulars  theoretically 
called  for  are  present,  and  by  this  process  the  hypoth- 
esis is  strengthened,  corroborated.  This  moving  back 
and  forth  between  the  observed  facts  and  the  conditional 
idea  is  kept  up  till  a  coherent  experience  of  an  object  is 
substituted  for  the  experience  of  conflicting  details  —  or 
else  the  whole  matter  is  given  up  as  a  bad  job. 

Sciences  exemplify  similar  attitudes  and  operations, 


84 


HOW   WE  THINK 


Science  is 
the  same 
operations 
carefully 
performed 


Guidance 
is  indirect 


but  with  a  higher  degree  of  elaboration  of  the  instru- 
ments of  caution,  exactness  and  thoroughness.  This 
greater  elaboration  brings  about  specialization,  an  ac- 
curate marking  off  of  various  types  of  problems  from 
one  another,  and  a  corresponding  segregation  and  classi- 
fication of  the  materials  of  experience  associated  with 
each  type  of  problem.  We  shall  devote  the  remainder 
of  this  chapter  to  a  consideration  of  the  devices  by  which 
the  discovery,  the  development,  and  the  testing  of  mean- 
ings are  scientifically  carried  on. 

§  2.    Guidance  of  the  Inductive  Movement 

Control  of  the  formation  of  suggestion  is  necessarily 
indirect,  not  direct;  imperfect,  not  perfect.  Just  be- 
cause all  discovery,  all  apprehension  involving  thought 
of  the  new,  goes  from  the  known,  the  present,  to  the 
unknown  and  absent,  no  rules  can  be  stated  that  will 
guarantee  correct  inference.  Just  what  is  suggested 
to  a  person  in  a  given  situation  depends  upon  his  native 
constitution  (his  originality,  his  genius),  temperament, 
the  prevalent  direction  of  his  interests,  his  early  environ- 
ment, the  general  tenor  of  his  past  experiences,  his 
special  training,  the  things  that  have  recently  occupied 
him  continuously  or  vividly,  and  so  on ;  to  some  extent 
even  upon  an  accidental  conjunction  of  present  circum- 
stances. These  matters,  so  far  as  they  lie  in  the  past 
or  in  external  conditions,  clearly  escape  regulation.  A 
suggestion  simply  does  or  does  not  occur ;  this  or  that 
suggestion  just  happens,  occurs,  springs  up.  If,  how- 
ever, prior  experience  and  training  have  developed  an 
attitude  of  patience  in  a  condition  of  doubt,  a  capac- 
ity for  suspended  judgment,  and  a  liking  for  inquiry, 
indirect  control  of  the  course  of  suggestions  is  possible. 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  85 

The  individual  may  return  upon,  revise,  restate,  enlarge, 
and  analyze  the  facts  out  of  which  suggestion  springs. 
Inductive  methods,  in  the  technical  sense,  all  have  to 
do  with  regulating  the  conditions  under  which  observa- 
tion, memory,  and  the  acceptance  of  the  testimony  of 
others  (the  operations  supplying  the  raw  data)  proceed. 

Given  the  facts  A  B  C  D  on  one  side  and  certain  in-  Method 
dividual  habits  on  the  other,  suggestion  occurs  automat- 
ically.  But  if  the  facts  A  B  C  D  are  carefully  looked 
into  and  thereby  resolved  into  the  facts  A'  B"  R  S,  a 
suggestion  will  automatically  present  itself  different 
from  that  called  up  by  the  facts  in  their  first  form.  To 
inventory  the  facts,  to  describe  exactly  and  minutely 
their  respective  traits,  to  magnify  artificially  those  that 
are  obscure  and  feeble,  to  reduce  artificially  those  that 
are  so  conspicuous  and  glaring  as  to  be  distracting,  — 
these  are  ways  of  modifying  the  facts  that  exercise  sug- 
gestive force,  and  thereby  indirectly  guiding  the  forma- 
tion of  suggested  inferences. 

Consider,  for  example,  how  a  physician  makes  his  illustration 
diagnosis  —  his  inductive  interpretation.  If  he  is  scien- 
tifically  trained,  he  suspends  —  postpones  —  reaching  a 
conclusion  in  order  that  he  may  not  be  led  by  superficial 
occurrences  into  a  snap  judgment.  Certain  conspicuous 
phenomena  may  forcibly  suggest  typhoid,  but  he  avoids 
a  conclusion,  or  even  any  strong  preference  for  this  or 
that  conclusion  until  he  has  greatly  (?)  enlarged  the 
scope  of  his  data,  and  (it)  rendered  them  more  minute. 
He  not  only  questions  the  patient  as  to  his  feelings  and 
as  to  his  acts  prior  to  the  disease,  but  by  various  manipu- 
lations with  his  hands  (and  with  instruments  made  for 
the  purpose)  brings  to  light  a  large  number  of  facts  of 
which  the  patient  is  quite  unaware.  The  state  of  tern- 


86 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Summary : 
definition  of 
scientific 
induction 


Elimination 
of  irrelevant 
•eanings 


perature,  respiration,  and  heart-action  is  accurately 
noted,  and  their  fluctuations  from  time  to  time  are  ex- 
actly recorded.  Until  this  examination  has  worked  out 
toward  a  wider  collection  and  in  toward  a  minuter  scru- 
tiny of  details,  inference  is  deferred. 

Scientific  induction  means,  in  short,  all  the  processes 
by  which  the  observing  and  amassing  of  data  are  regU' 
lated  with  a  view  to  facilitating  the  formation  of  explan- 
atory conceptions  and  theories.  These  devices  are  all 
directed  toward  selecting  the  precise  facts  to  which 
weight  and  significance  shall  attach  in  forming  sugges- 
tions or  ideas.  Specifically,  this  selective  determination 
involves  devices  of  (i)  elimination  by  analysis  of  what 
is  likely  to  be  misleading  and  irrelevant,  (2)  emphasis 
of  the  important  by  collection  and  comparison  of  cases, 
(3)  deliberate  construction  of  data  by  experimental 
variation. 

(i)  It  is  a  common  saying  that  one  must  learn  to  dis- 
criminate between  observed  facts  and  judgments  based 
upon  them.  Taken  literally,  such  advice  cannot  be 
carried  out;  in  every  observed  thing  there  is  —  if  the 
thing  have  any  meaning  at  all  —  some  consolidation  of 
meaning  with  what  is  sensibly  and  physically  present, 
such  that,  if  this  were  entirely  excluded,  what  is  left 
would  have  no  sense.  A  says :  "  I  saw  my  brother." 
The  term  brother,  however,  involves  a  relation  that  can- 
not be  sensibly  or  physically  observed ;  it  is  inferential 
in  status.  If  A  contents  himself  with  saying,  "  I  saw  a 
man/'  the  factor  of  classification,  of  intellectual  refer- 
ence, is  less  complex,  but  still  exists.  If,  as  a  last  re- 
sort, A  were  to  say,  "  Anyway,  I  saw  a  colored  object," 
some  relationship,  though  more  rudimentary  and  unde- 
fined, still  subsists.  Theoretically,  it  is  possible  that  no 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  8/ 

object  was  there,  only  an  unusual  mode  of  nerve  stimu- 
lation. None  the  less,  the  advice  to  discriminate  what 
is  observed  from  what  is  inferred  is  sound  practical 
advice.  Its  working  import  is  that  one  should  eliminate 
or  exclude  those  inferences  as  to  which  experience  has 
shown  that  there  is  greatest  liability  to  error.  This,  of 
course,  is  a  relative  matter.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances no  reasonable  doubt  would  attach  to  the  obser- 
vation, "I  see  my  brother";  it  would  be  pedantic  and 
silly  to  resolve  this  recognition  back  into  a  more  ele- 
mentary form.  Under  other  circumstances  it  might  be 
a  perfectly  genuine  question  as  to  whether  A  saw  even 
a  colored  thing,  or  whether  the  color  was  due  to  a  stim- 
ulation of  the  sensory  optical  apparatus  (like  "  seeing 
stars  "  upon  a  blow)  or  to  a  disordered  circulation.  In 
general,  the  scientific  man  is  one  who  knows  that  he  is 
likely  to  be  hurried  to  a  conclusion,  and  that  part  of 
this  precipitancy  is  due  to  certain  habits  which  tend  to 
make  him  "  read "  certain  meanings  into  the  situation 
that  confronts  him,  so  that  he  must  be  on  the  lookout 
against  errors  arising  from  his  interests,  habits,  and 
current  preconceptions. 

The  technique  of  scientific  inquiry  thus  consists  in  The  tech- 
various  processes  that  tend  to  exclude  over-hasty  "  read- 
ing  in  "  of  meanings ;  devices  that  aim  to  give  a  purely 
"  objective "  unbiased  rendering  of  the  data  to  be  in- 
terpreted. Flushed  cheeks  usually  mean  heightened 
temperature ;  paleness  means  lowered  temperature. 
The  clinical  thermometer  records  automatically  the  ac- 
tual temperature  and  hence  checks  up  the  habitual 
associations  that  might  lead  to  error  in  a  given 
case.  All  the  instrumentalities  of  observation  —  the 
various  -meters  and  -graphs  and  -scopes  —  fill  a  part 


88  HOW   WE   THINK 

of  their  scientific  role  in  helping  to  eliminate  meanings 
supplied  because  of  habit,  prejudice,  the  strong  mo- 
mentary preoccupation  of  excitement  and  anticipation, 
and  by  the  vogue  of  existing  theories.  Photographs, 
phonographs,  kymographs,  actinographs,  seismographs, 
plethysmographs,  and  the  like,  moreover,  give  records 
that  are  permanent,  so  that  they  can  be  employed  by 
different  persons,  and  by  the  same  person  in  different 
states  of  mind,  i.e.  under  the  influence  of  varying  ex- 
pectations and  dominant  beliefs.  Thus  purely  personal 
prepossessions  (due  to  habit,  to  desire,  to  after-effects  of 
recent  experience)  may  be  largely  eliminated.  In  ordi- 
nary language,  the  facts  are  objectively,  rather  than 
subjectively,  determined.  In  this  way  tendencies  to 
premature  interpretation  are  held  in  check. 

Collection  (2)  Another  important  method  of  control  consists  in 
the  multiplication  of  cases  or  instances.  If  I  doubt 
whether  a  certain  handful  gives  a  fair  sample,  or  repre- 
sentative, for  purposes  of  judging  value,  of  a  whole  car- 
load of  grain,  I  take  a  number  of  handfuls  from  various 
parts  of  the  car  and  compare  them.  If  they  agree  in 
quality,  well  and  good ;  if  they  disagree,  we  try  to  get 
enough  samples  so  that  when  they  are  thoroughly  mixed 
the  result  will  be  a  fair  basis  for  an  evaluation.  This 
illustration  represents  roughly  the  value  of  that  aspect 
of  scientific  control  in  induction  which  insists  upon 
multiplying  observations  instead  of  basing  the  conclu- 
sion upon  one  or  a  few  cases. 

This  method       So   prominent,   indeed,   is   this   aspect   of   inductive 

whole  of        method  that  it  is  frequently  treated  as  the  whole  of  in- 

induction       duction.     It  is  supposed  that  all  inductive  inference  is 

based  upon  collecting  and  comparing  a  number  of  like 

cases.     But  in  fact  such  comparison  and  collection  is  a 


SYSTEMATIC    INFERENCE  89 

secondary  development  within  the  process  of  securing 
a  correct  conclusion  in  some  single  case.  If  a  man  in- 
fers from  a  single  sample  of  grain  as  to  the  grade  of 
wheat  of  the  car  as  a  whole,  it  is  induction  and,  under 
certain  circumstances,  a  sound  induction ;  other  cases 
are  resorted  to  simply  for  the  sake  of  rendering  that 
induction  more  guarded,  and  more  probably  correct. 
In  like  fashion,  the  reasoning  that  led  up  to  the  bur- 
glary idea  in  the  instance  already  cited  (p.  83)  was  in 
ductive,  though  there  was  but  one  single  case  examined. 
The  particulars  upon  which  the  general  meaning  (or 
relation)  of  burglary  was  grounded  were  simply  the  sum 
total  of  the  unlike  items  and  qualities  that  made  up  the 
one  case  examined.  Had  this  case  presented  very  great 
obscurities  and  difficulties,  recourse  might  then  have 
been  had  to  examination  of  a  number  of  similar  cases. 
But  this  comparison  would  not  make  inductive  a  process 
which  was  not  previously  of  that  character;  it  would 
only  render  induction  more  wary  and  adequate.  The 
object  of  bringing  into  consideration  a  multitude  of  cases 
is  to  facilitate  the  selection  of  the  evidential  or  significant 
features  upon  which  to  base  inference  in  some  single  case. 

Accordingly,  points  of  unlikeness  are  as  important  as  contrast  as 
points  of  likeness  among  the  cases  examined.  Compari- 
son,  without  contrast,  does  not  amount  to  anything  log- 
ically. In  the  degree  in  which  other  cases  observed  or 
remembered  merely  duplicate  the  case  in  question,  we 
are  no  better  off  for  purposes  of  inference  than  if  we 
had  permitted  our  single  original  fact  to  dictate  a  con- 
clusion. In  the  case  of  the  various  samples  of  grain,  it 
is  the  fact  that  the  samples  are  unlike,  at  least  in  the 
part  of  the  carload  from  which  they  are  taken,  that  is 
important.  Were  it  not  for  this  unlikeness,  their  like- 


90 


HOW   WE   THINK 


importance 


ness  in  quality  would  be  of  no  avail  in  assisting  infer- 
ence.1 If  we  are  endeavoring  to  get  a  child  to  regulate 
his  conclusions  about  the  germination  of  a  seed  by  tak- 
ing into  account  a  number  of  instances,  very  little  is 
gained  if  the  conditions  in  all  these  instances  closely 
approximate  one  another.  But  if  one  seed  is  placed  in 
pure  sand,  another  in  loam,  and  another  on  blotting-  K 
paper,  and  if  in  each  case  there  are  two  conditions,  one 
with  and  another  without  moisture,  the  unlike  factors 
tend  to  throw  into  relief  the  factors  that  are  significant 
(or  "essential")  for  reaching  a  conclusion.  Unless,  in 
short,  the  observer  takes  care  to  have  the  differences  in 
the  observed  cases  as  extreme  as  conditions  allow,  and 
unless  he  notes  unlikenesses  as  carefully  as  likenesses, 
he  has  no  way  of  determining  the  evidential  force  of 
the  data  that  confront  him. 

Another  way  of  bringing  out  this  importance  of  un- 
likeness  is  the  emphasis  put  by  the  scientist  upon  nega- 
tive  cases  —  upon  instances  which  it  would  seem  ought 
to  fall  into  line  but  which  as  matter  of  fact  do  not. 
Anomalies,  exceptions,  things  which  agree  in  most  re- 
spects but  disagree  in  some  crucial  point,  are  so  impor- 
tant that  many  of  the  devices  of  scientific  technique  are 
designed  purely  to  detect,  record,  and  impress  upon 
memory  contrasting  cases.  Darwin  remarked  that  so 
easy  is  it  to  pass  over  cases  that  oppose  a  favorite 
generalization,  that  he  had  made  it  a  habit  not  merely 
to  hunt  for  contrary  instances,  but  also  to  write  down 
any  exception  he  noted  or  thought  of  —  as  otherwise  it 
was  almost  sure  to  be  forgotten. 

1  In  terras  of  the  phrases  used  in  logical  treatises,  the  so-called  "  methods 
of  agreement  "  (comparison)  and  ''  difference  "  (contrast)  must  accompany 
each  other  or  constitute  a  "  joint  method  "  in  order  to  be  of  logical  use. 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  91 

§  3.    Experimental   Variation  of  Conditions 

We  have  already  trenched  upon  this  factor  of  indue-  Experiment 
tive  method,  the  one  that  is  the  most  important  of  all 


wherever  it  is  feasible.  Theoretically,  one  sample  case  introducing 
,of  'the  right  kind  will  be  as  good  a  basis  for  an  inference  factors 
^as  a  thousand  cases;  but  cases  of  the  "right  kind" 
rarely  turn  up  spontaneously.  We  have  to  search  for 
them,  and  we  may  have  to  make  them.  If  we  take 
cases  just  as  we  find  them  —  whether  one  case  or  many 
cases  —  they  contain  much  that  is  irrelevant  to  the  prob- 
lem in  hand,  while  much  that  is  relevant  is  obscure,  hid- 
den. The  object  of  experimentation  is  the  construction, 
by  regular  steps  taken  on  the  basis  of  a  plan  thought  out 
in  advance,  of  a  typical,  crucial  case,  a  case  formed  with 
express  reference  to  throwing  light  on  the  difficulty  in 
question.  All  inductive  methods  rest  (as  already  stated, 
p.  85)  upon  regulation  of  the  conditions  of  observation 
and  memory  ;  experiment  is  simply  the  most  adequate 
regulation  possible  of  these  conditions.  We  try  to  make 
the  observation  such  that  every  factor  entering  into 
it,  together  with  the  mode  and  the  amount  of  its  opera- 
tion, may  be  open  to  recognition.  Such  making  of  ob- 
servations constitutes  experiment. 

Such  observations  have  many  and  obvious  advantages  Three  ad- 
(over  observations  —  no  matter  how  extensive  —  with  re-  experiment 
spect  to  which  we  simply  wait  for  an  event  to  happen 
or  an  object  to  present  itself.     Experiment  overcomes 
the  defects  due  to  (a}  the  rarity,  (b)  the  subtlety  and 
minuteness  (or  the  violence),  and  (c)  the  rigid  fixity  of 
facts  as  we  ordinarily  experience  them.     The  following 
quotations  from  Jevons's  Elementary  Lessons  in  Logic 
bring  out  all  these  points  : 

(*')  "  We  might  have  to  wait  years  or  centuries  to  meet 


92  HOW  WE   THINK 

accidentally  with  facts  which  we  can  readily  produce  at 
any  moment  in  a  laboratory ;  and  it  is  probable  that  most 
of  the  chemical  substances  now  known,  and  many  ex- 
cessively useful  products  would  never  have  been  dis- 
covered at  all  by  waiting  till  nature  presented  them 
spontaneously  to  our  observation." 

This  quotation  refers  to  the  infrequency  or  rarity  of 
certain  facts  of  nature,  even  very  important  ones.  The 
passage  then  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  minuteness  of  many 
phenomena  which  makes  them  escape  ordinary  experi- 
ence: 

(zY)  "  Electricity  doubtless  operates  in  every  particle 
of  matter,  perhaps  at  every  moment  of  time ;  and  even 
the  ancients  could  not  but  notice  its  action  in  the  load- 
stone, in  lightning,  in  the  Aurora  Borealis,  or  in  a  piece 
of  rubbed  amber.  But  in  lightning  electricity  was  too 
intense  and  dangerous ;  in  the  other  cases  it  was  too 
feeble  to  be  properly  understood.  The  science  of  elec- 
tricity and  magnetism  could  only  advance  by  getting 
regular  supplies  of  electricity  from  the  common  electric 
machine  or  the  galvanic  battery  and  by  making  powerful 
electromagnets.  Most,  if  not  all,  the  effects  which  elec- 
tricity produces  must  go  on  in  nature,  but  altogether  too 
obscurely  for  observation." 

Jevons  then  deals  with  the  fact  that,  under  ordinary 
conditions  of  experience,  phenomena  which  can  be 
understood  only  by  seeing  them  under  varying  condi- 
tions are  presented  in  a  fixed  and  uniform  way. 

(iii}  "  Thus  carbonic  acid  is  only  met  in  the  form  of 
a  gas,  proceeding  from  the  combustion  of  carbon ;  but 
when  exposed  to  extreme  pressure  and  cold,  it  is  con- 
densed into  a  liquid,  and  may  even  be  converted  into  a 
snowlike  solid  substance.  Many  other  gases  have  in 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  93 

like  manner  been  liquefied  or  solidified,  and  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  every  substance  is  capable  of 
taking  all  three  forms  of  solid,  liquid,  and  gas,  if  only 
the  conditions  of  temperature  and  pressure  can  be 
sufficiently  varied.  Mere  observation  of  nature  would 
have  led  us,  on  the  contrary,  to  suppose  that  nearly  all 
substances  were  fixed  in  one  condition  only,  and  could 
not  be  converted  from  solid  into  liquid  and  from  liquid 
into  gas." 

Many  volumes  would  be  required  to  describe  in  detail 
all  the  methods  that  investigators  have  developed  in 
various  subjects  for  analyzing  and  restating  the  facts 
of  ordinary  experience  so  that  we  may  escape  from 
capricious  and  routine  suggestions,  and  may  get  the 
facts  in  such  a  form  and  in  such  a  light  (or  context) 
that  exact  and  far-reaching  explanations  may  be  sug- 
gested in  place  of  vague  and  limited  ones.  But  these 
various  devices  of  inductive  inquiry  all  have  one  goal  in 
view  :  the  indirect  regulation  of  the  function  of  sugges- 
tion, or  formation  of  ideas ;  and,  in  the  main,  they  will 
be  found  to  reduce  to  some  combination  of  the  three 
types  of  selecting  and  arranging  subject-matter  just 
described. 

§  4.    Guidance  of  the  Deductive  Movement 

Before  dealing  directly  with  this  topic,  we  must  note  Value  of 
that  systematic  regulation  of  induction   depends  upon  foer  guid°ng 
the  possession   of   a  body   of   general   principles   that  induction 
may  be  applied  deductively  to  the  examination  or  con- 
struction of  particular  cases  as  they  come  up.     If  the 
physician  does  not  know  the  general  laws  of  the  physi- 
ology of  the   human   body,  he   has   little  way  of  tell- 
ing what  is   either   peculiarly  significant  or  peculiarly 


94  HOW  WE  THINK 

exceptional  in  any  particular  case  that  he  is  called  upon 
to  treat.  If  he  knows  the  laws  of  circulation,  digestion, 
and  respiration,  he  can  deduce  the  conditions  that 
should  normally  be  found  in  a  given  case.  These  con- 
siderations give  a  base  line  from  which  the  deviations 
and  abnormalities  of  a  particular  case  may  be  measured. 
In  this  way,  the  nature  of  the  problem  at  hand  is  located 
and  defined.  Attention  is  not  wasted  upon  features 
which  though  conspicuous  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
case;  It  is  concentrated  upon  just  those  traits  which 
are  out  of  the  way  and  hence  require  explanation.  A 
question  well  put  is  half  answered;  i.e.  a  difficulty 
clearly  apprehended  is  likely  to  suggest  its  own  solu- 
tion,—  while  a  vague  and  miscellaneous  perception 
of  the  problem  leads  to  groping  and  fumbling.  De- 
ductive systems  are  necessary  in  order  to  put  the 
question  in  a  fruitful  form. 

"  Reasoning  The  control  of  the  origin  and  development  of  hypoth- 
a  thing  out"  eges  ^y  deduction  does  not  cease,  however,  with  locating 
the  problem.  Ideas  as  they  first  present  themselves  are 
inchoate  and  incomplete.  Deduction  is  their  elabora- 
tion into  fullness  and  completeness  of  meaning  (see  p.  76). 
The  phenomena  which  the  physician  isolates  from  the 
total  mass  of  facts  that  exist  in  front  of  him  suggest, 
we  will  say,  typhoid  fever.  Now  this  conception  of 
typhoid  fever  is  one  that  is  capable  of  development. 
If  there  is  typhoid,  wherever  there  is  typhoid,  there  are 
certain  results,  certain  characteristic  symptoms.  By 
going  over  mentally  the  full  bearing  of  the  concept  of 
typhoid,  the  scientist  is  instructed  as  to  further  phe- 
nomena to  be  found.  Its  development  gives  him  an 
instrument  of  inquiry,  of  observation  and  experimenta- 
tion. He  can  go  to  work  deliberately  to  see  whether 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  95 

the  case  presents  those  features  that  it  should  have  if 
the  supposition  is  valid.  The  deduced  results  form  a 
basis  for  comparison  with  observed  results.  Except 
where  there  is  a  system  of  principles  capable  of  being 
elaborated  by  theoretical  reasoning,  the  process  of 
testing  (or  proof)  of  a  hypothesis  is  incomplete  and 
haphazard. 

These  considerations  indicate  the  method  by  which  Such  reason- 
the  deductive  movement  is  guided.     Deduction  requires 


a  system  of  allied  ideas  which  may  be  translated  into  tized 
one  another  by  regular  or  graded  steps.  The  question 
is  whether  the  facts  that  confront  us  can  be  identified 
as  typhoid  fever.  To  all  appearances,  there  is  a  great 
gap  between  them  and  typhoid.  But  if  we  can,  by 
some  method  of  substitutions,  go  through  a  series  of 
intermediary  terms  (see  p.  72),  the  gap  may,  after  all, 
be  easily  bridged.  Typhoid  may  mean/  which  in  turn 
means  o,  which  means  n  which  means  m,  which  is  very 
similar  to  the  data  selected  as  the  key  to  the  problem. 

One  of  the  chief  objects  of  science  is  to  provide  for  or  definition 
every  typical  branch  of  subject-matter  a  set  of  meanings 
and  principles  so  closely  interknit  that  any  one  implies 
some  other  according  to  definite  conditions,  which 
under  certain  other  conditions  implies  another,  and  so 
on.  In  this  way,  various  substitutions  of  equivalents 
are  possible,  and  reasoning  can  trace  out,  without  having 
recourse  to  specific  observations,  very  remote  conse- 
quences of  any  suggested  principle.  Definition,  general 
formulae,  and  classification  are  the  devices  by  which  the 
fixation  and  elaboration  of  a  meaning  into  its  detailed 
ramifications  are  carried  on.  They  are  not  ends  in  them- 
selves —  as  they  are  frequently  regarded  even  in  ele- 
mentary education  —  but  instrumentalities  for  facilitating 


96  HOW  WE   THINK 

the  development  of  a  conception  into  the  form  where 
its  applicability  to  given  facts  may  best  be  tested.1 
The  final  The  final  test  of  deduction  lies  in  experimental  ob- 

deduction  servation.  Elaboration  by  reasoning  may  make  a  sug- 
gested idea  very  rich  and  very  plausible,  but  it  will  not 
settle  the  validity  of  that  idea.  Only  if  facts  can  be 
observed  (by  methods  either  of  collection  or  of  experi- 
mentation), that  agree  in  detail  and  without  exception 
with  the  deduced  results,  are  we  justified  in  accepting 
the  deduction  as  giving  a  valid  conclusion.  Thinking, 
in  short,  must  end  as  well  as  begin  in  the  domain  of 
concrete  observations,  if  it  is  to  be  complete  thinking. 
And  the  ultimate  educative  value  of  all  deductive  pro- 
cesses is  measured  by  the  degree  to  which  they  become 
working  tools  in  the  creation  and  development  of  new 
experiences. 

§  5.   Some  Educational  Bearings  of  the  Discussion 

Educational        Some  of  the  points  of  the  foregoing  logical  analysis 
counterparts  mav  ^e  cjinched  by  a  consideration  of  their  educational 

of  false  *  * 

logical  implications,  especially  with  reference  to  certain  prac- 

tices that  grow  out  of  a  false  separation  by  which  each 
is  thought  to  be  independent  of  the  other  and  complete 
isolation        in  itself.     (?)  In  some  school  subjects,  or  at  all  events 
of  "facts"     jn  some  topics  or  in  some  lessons,  the  pupils  are  im- 
mersed in  details ;  their  minds  are  loaded  with  discon- 
nected   items    (whether    gleaned    by    observation    and 
memory,  or   accepted  on  hearsay  and  authority).     In- 
duction is  treated  as  beginning   and   ending  with   the 
amassing  of  facts,  of  particular  isolated  pieces   of   in- 
formation.    That   these    items   are   educative   only   as 
suggesting  a  view  of  some  larger  situation  in  which  the 
1  These  processes  are  further  discussed  in  Chapter  IX. 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  97 

particulars  are  included  and  thereby  accounted  for,  is 
ignored.  In  object  lessons  in  elementary  education  and 
in  laboratory  instruction  in  higher  education,  the  sub- 
ject is  often  so  treated  that  the  student  fails  to  "see 
the  forest  on  account  of  the  trees."  Things  and  their 
qualities  are  retailed  and  detailed,  without  reference  to 
a  more  general  character  which  they  stand  for  and 
mean.  Or,  in  the  laboratory,  the  student  becomes 
engrossed  in  the  processes  of  manipulation,  —  irrespec- 
tive of  the  reason  for  their  performance,  without  recog- 
nizing a  typical  problem  for  the  solution  of  which  they 
afford  the  appropriate  method.  Only  deduction  brings 
out  and  emphasizes  consecutive  relationships,  and  only 
when  relationships  are  held  in  view  does  learning  be- 
come more  than  a  miscellaneous  scrap-bag. 

(«)  Again,  the  mind  is  allowed  to  hurry  on  to  a  vague  Failure  to 
notion  of  the  whole  of  which  the  fragmentary  facts  are  rea^i£g  y 
portions,  without  any  attempt  to  become  conscious  of 
how  they  are  bound  together  as  parts  of  this  whole.    The 
student  feels  that  "  in  a  general  way,"  as  we  say,  the 
facts   of  the  history  or   geography  lesson   are  related 
thus  and  so ;  but  "  in  a  general  way  "  here  stands  only 
for  "in  a  vague  way,"  somehow  or  other,  with  no  clear 
recognition  of  just  how. 

The  pupil  is  encouraged  to  form,  on  the  basis  of  the 
particular  facts,  a  general  notion,  a  conception  of  how 
they  stand  related  ;  but  no  pains  are  taken  to  make  the 
student  follow  up  the  notion,  to  elaborate  it  and  see  just 
what  its  bearings  are  upon  the  case  in  hand  and  upon 
similar  cases.  The  inductive  inference,  the  guess,  is 
formed  by  the  student ;  if  it  happens  to  be  correct,  it  is 
at  once  accepted  by  the  teacher  ;  or  if  it  is  false,  it  is  re- 
jected. If  any  amplification  of  the  idea  occurs,  it  is 


98 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Isolation  of 
deduction 
by  com- 
mencing 
with  it 


quite  likely  carried  through  by  the  teacher,  who  thereby 
assumes  the  responsibility  for  its  intellectual  develop- 
ment. But  a  complete,  an  integral,  act  of  thought  re- 
quires that  the  person  making  the  suggestion  (the 
guess)  be  responsible  also  for  reasoning  out  its  bearings 
upon  the  problem  in  hand ;  that  he  develop  the  sugges- 
tion at  least  enough  to  indicate  the  ways  in  which  it 
applies  to  and  accounts  for  the  specific  data  of  the  case. 
Too  often  when  a  recitation  does  not  consist  in  simply 
testing  the  ability  of  the  student  to  display  some  form  of 
technical  skill,  or  to  repeat  facts  and  principles  accepted 
on  the  authority  of  textbook  or  lecturer,  the  teacher 
goes  to  the  opposite  extreme  ;  and  after  calling  out  the 
spontaneous  reflections  of  the  pupils,  their  guesses  or 
ideas  about  the  matter,  merely  accepts  or  rejects  them, 
assuming  himself  the  responsibility  for  their  elaboration. 
In  this  way,  the  function  of  suggestion  and  of  interpre- 
tation is  excited,  but  it  is  not  directed  and  trained.  In- 
duction is  stimulated  but  is  not  carried  over  into  the 
reasoning  phase  necessary  to  complete  it. 

In  other  subjects  and  topics,  the  deductive  phase  is 
isolated,  and  is  treated  as  if  it  were  complete  in  itself. 
This  false  isolation  may  show  itself  in  either  (and  both) 
of  two  points ;  namely,  at  the  beginning  or  at  the  end 
of  the  resort  to  general  intellectual  procedure. 

(iii)  Beginning  with  definitions,  rules,  general  princi- 
ples, classifications,  and  the  like,  is  a  common  form 
of  the  first  error.  This  method  has  been  such  a  uni- 
form object  of  attack  on  the  part  of  all  educational  re- 
formers that  it  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  upon  it  further 
than  to  note  that  the  mistake  is,  logically,  due  to  the 
attempt  to  introduce  deductive  considerations  without 
first  making  acquaintance  with  the  particular  facts  that 


SYSTEMATIC   INFERENCE  99 

create  a  need  for  the  generalizing  rational  devices. 
Unfortunately,  the  reformer  sometimes  carries  his  objec- 
tion too  far,  or  rather  locates  it  in  the  wrong  place.  He 
is  led  into  a  tirade  against  all  definition,  all  systematiza- 
tion,  all  use  of  general  principles,  instead  of  confining 
himself  to  pointing  out  their  futility  and  their  deadness 
when  not  properly  motivated  by  familiarity  with  con- 
crete experiences. 

(tv)  The  isolation  of  deduction  is  seen,  at  the  other  end,  isolation  of 
wherever  there  is  failure  to  clinch  and  test  the  results 


of  the  general  reasoning  processes  by  application  to  new  tion  of  new 
concrete  cases.  The  final  point  of  the  deductive  devices 
lies  in  their  use  in  assimilating  and  comprehending  in- 
dividual cases.  No  one  understands  a  general  principle 
fully  —  no  matter  how  adequately  he  can  demonstrate 
it,  to  say  nothing  of  repeating  it  —  till  he  can  employ  it 
in  the  mastery  of  new  situations,  which,  if  they  are  new, 
differ  in  manifestation  from  the  cases  used  in  reaching  the 
generalization.  Too  often  the  textbook  or  teacher  is 
contented  with  a  series  of  somewhat  perfunctory  ex- 
amples and  illustrations,  and  the  student  is  not  forced  to 
carry  the  principle  that  he  has  formulated  over  into 
further  cases  of  his  own  experience.  In  so  far,  the 
principle  is  inert  and  dead. 

(v)  It  is  only  a  variation  upon  this  same  theme  to  Lack  of  pro- 
say  that  every  complete  act  of  reflective  inquiry  makes 
provision   for  experimentation  —  for  testing  suggested  tation 
and  accepted  principles   by   employing  them   for  the 
active  construction  of  new  cases,  in  which  new  qualities 
emerge.      Only   slowly   do   our   schools    accommodate 
themselves  to  the  general  advance  of  scientific  method. 
From  the  scientific  side,  it  is  demonstrated  that  effective 
and  integral  thinking  is  possible  only  where  the  experi- 


100  HOW  WE  THINK 

mental  method  in  some  form  is  used.  Some  recog- 
nition of  this  principle  is  evinced  in  higher  institutions 
of  learning,  colleges  and  high  schools.  But  in  elemen- 
tary education,  it  is  still  assumed,  for  the  most  part, 
that  the  pupil's  natural  range  of  observations,  supple- 
mented by  what  he  accepts  on  hearsay,  is  adequate  for 
intellectual  growth.  Of  course  it  is  not  necessary  that 
laboratories  shall  be  introduced  under  that  name,  much 
less  that  elaborate  apparatus  be  secured;  but  the  en- 
tire scientific  history  of  humanity  demonstrates  that 
the  conditions  for  complete  mental  activity  will  not  be 
obtained  till  adequate  provision  is  made  for  the  carrying 
on  of  activities  that  actually  modify  physical  conditions, 
and  that  books,  pictures,  and  even  objects  that  are  pas- 
sively observed  but  not  manipulated  do  not  furnish  the 
provision  required. 


CHAPTER   EIGHT 
JUDGMENT:    THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  FACTS 

§  I.    The  Three  Factors  of  Judging 

A  MAN  of  good  judgment  in  a  given  set  of  affairs  is  a  Good 
man  in  so  far  educated,  trained,  whatever  may  be  his  ]U  gmen 
literacy.     And  if  our  schools  turn  out  their  pupils  in 
that  attitude  of  mind  which  is  conducive  to  good  judg- 
ment in  any  department  of  affairs  in  which  the  pupils 
are  placed,  they  have  done  more  than  if  they  sent  out 
their  pupils  merely  possessed  of  vast  stores  of  informa- 
tion, or  high  degrees  of   skill  in  specialized  branches. 
To  know  what  is  good  judgment  we  need  first  to  know 
what  judgment  is. 

That  there  is  an  intimate  connection  between  judg-  judgment 
ment  and  inference  is  obvious  enough.  The  aim  of  in- 
ference  is  to  terminate  itself  in  an  adequate  judgment 
of  a  situation,  and  the  course  of  inference  goes  on  through 
a  series  of  partial  and  tentative  judgments.  What  are 
these  units,  these  terms  of  inference  when  we  examine 
them  on  their  own  account  ?  Their  significant  traits 
may  be  readily  gathered  from  a  consideration  of  the 
operations  to  which  the  word  judgment  was  originally 
applied  :  namely,  the  authoritative  decision  of  matters  in 
legal  controversy  —  the  procedure  of  tot  judge  on  the 
bench.  There  are  three  such  features:  (i)  a  contro- 
versy, consisting  of  opposite  claims  regarding  the  same 
objective  situation;  (2)  a  process  of  defining  and  elabo- 
rating these  claims  and  of  sifting  the  facts  adduced  to 

101 


102 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Uncertainty 
the  ante- 
cedent of 
judgment 


Judgment 
defines 
the  issue, 


support  them  ;  (3)  a  final  decision,  or  sentence,  closing 
the  particular  matter  in  dispute  and  also  serving  as  a 
rule  or  principle  for  deciding  future  cases. 

1.  Unless  there  is  something  doubtful,  the  situation 
is  read  off  at  a  glance ;  it  is  taken  in  on  sight,  i.e.  there 
is   merely   apprehension,    perception,    recognition,    not 
judgment.     If  the  matter  is  wholly  doubtful,  if  it  is  dark 
and  obscure  throughout,  there  is  a  blind  mystery  and 
again  no  judgment  occurs.     But  if  it  suggests,  however 
vaguely,    different  meanings,  rival  possible   interpreta- 
tions, there  is  some  point  at  issue,  some  matter  at  stake. 
Doubt  takes  the  form  of  dispute,  controversy ;  different 
sides   compete  for  a  conclusion  in  their  favor.     Cases 
brought  to  trial  before  a  judge  illustrate  neatly  and  un- 
ambiguously this  strife  of   alternative   interpretations ; 
but  any  case  of  trying  to  clear  up  intellectually  a  doubt- 
ful  situation   exemplifies  the   same   traits.     A   moving 
blur  catches  our  eye  in  the  distance  ;  we  ask  ourselves  : 
"  What  is  it  ?     Is  it  a  cloud  of  whirling  dust  ?  a  tree 
waving  its  branches  ?  a  man  signaling  to  us  ?  "     Some- 
thing in  the  total  situation  suggests  each  of  these  pos- 
sible meanings.     Only   one   of   them  can   possibly   be 
sound ;  perhaps  none  of  them  is  appropriate ;  yet  some 
meaning  the  thing  in  question  surely  has.     Which  of 
the   alternative   suggested   meanings   has   the   rightful 
claim  ?     What  does  the  perception  really  mean  ?     How 
is   it  to  be  interpreted,   estimated,   appraised,  placed  ? 
Every  judgment  proceeds  from  some  such  situation. 

2.  The  hearing  of  the  controversy,  the  trial,  i.e.  the 
weighing  of  alternative  claims,  divides  into  two  branches, 
either  of  which,  in  a  given  case,  may  be  more  conspicu- 
ous than  the  other.     In  the  consideration  of  a  legal  dis- 
pute, these  two  branches  are  sifting  the  evidence  and 


JUDGMENT:   INTERPRETATION   OF  FACTS       103 

selecting  the  rules  that  are  applicable ;  they  are  "  the 
facts"  and  "the  law"  of  the  case.  In  judgment  they 
are  (a)  the  determination  of  the  data  that  are  impor- 
tant in  the  given  case  (compare  the  inductive  move- 
ment); and  (b)  the  elaboration  of  the  conceptions  or 
meanings  suggested  by  the  crude  data  (compare  the 
deductive  movement),  (a)  What  portions  or  aspects  of 
the  situation  are  significant  in  controlling  the  formation 
of  the  interpretation  ?  (b)  Just  what  is  the  full  meaning 
and  bearing  of  the  conception  that  is  used  as  a  method 
of  interpretation  ?  These  questions  are  strictly  correla- 
tive ;  the  answer  to  each  depends  upon  the  answer  to 
the  other.  We  may,  however,  for  convenience,  consider 
them  separately. 

(a)  In  every  actual  occurrence,  there  are  many  de-  («)  by 
tails  which  are  part  of  the  total  occurrence,  but  which  ^hgt  fafta 
nevertheless  are  not  significant  in  relation  to  the  point  are  evidence 
at  issue.  All  parts  of  an  experience  are  equally  pres- 
ent, but  they  are  very  far  from  being  of  equal  value  as 
signs  or  as  evidences.  Nor  is  there  any  tag  or  label  on 
any  trait  saying :  "  This  is  important,"  or  "  This  is 
trivial."  Nor  is  intensity,  or  vividness  or  conspicuous- 
ness,  a  safe  measure  of  indicative  and  proving  value. 
The  glaring  thing  may  be  totally  insignificant  in  this 
particular  situation,  and  the  key  to  the  understanding 
of  the  whole  matter  may  be  modest  or  hidden  (compare 
p.  74).  Features  that  are  not  significant  are  distracting ; 
they  proffer  their  claims  to  be  regarded  as  clues  and 
cues  to  interpretation,  while  traits  that  are  significant  do 
not  appear  on  the  surface  at  all.  Hence,  judgment  is 
required  even  in  reference  to  the  situation  or  event  that 
is  present  to  the  senses ;  elimination  or  rejection,  selec- 
tion, discovery,  or  bringing  to  light  must  take  place. 


104 


HOW  WE  THINK 


Expertness 
in  selecting 
evidence 


Intuitive 
judgments 


Till  we  have  reached  a  final  conclusion,  rejection  and 
selection  must  be  tentative  or  conditional.  We  select 
the  things  that  we  hope  or  trust  are  cues  to  meaning. 
But  if  they  do  not  suggest  a  situation  that  accepts  and 
includes  them  (see  p.  81),  we  reconstitute  our  data,  the 
facts  of  the  case ;  for  we  mean,  intellectually,  by  the 
facts  of  the  case  those  traits  that  are  used  as  evidence 
in  reaching  a  conclusion  or  forming  a  decision. 

No  hard  and  fast  rules  for  this  operation  of  selecting 
and  rejecting,  or  fixing  upon  the  facts,  can  be  given.  It 
all  comes  back,  as  we  say,  to  the  good  judgment,  the 
good  sense,  of  the  one  judging.  To  be  a  good  judge  is 
to  have  a  sense  of  the  relative  indicative  or  signifying 
values  of  the  various  features  of  the  perplexing  situa- 
tion ;  to  know  what  to  let  go  as  of  no  account ;  what  to 
eliminate  as  irrelevant ;  what  to  retain  as  conducive  to 
outcome ;  what  to  emphasize  as  a  clue  to  the  difficulty.1 
This  power  in  ordinary  matters  we  call  knack,  tact,  clev- 
erness;  in  more  important  affairs,  insight,  discernment. 
In  part  it  is  instinctive  or  inborn ;  but  it  also  represents 
the  funded  outcome  of  long  familiarity  with  like  opera- 
tions in  the  past.  Possession  of  this  ability  to  seize 
what  is  evidential  or  significant  and  to  let  the  rest  go  is 
the  mark  of  the  expert,  the  connoisseur,  the  judge,  in 
any  matter. 

Mill  cites  the  following  case,  which  is  worth  noting  as 
an  instance  of  the  extreme  delicacy  and  accuracy  to 
which  may  be  developed  this  power  of  sizing  up  the 
significant  factors  of  a  situation.  "  A  Scotch  manufac- 
turer procured  from  England,  at  a  high  rate  of  wages, 
a  working  dyer,  famous  for  producing  very  fine  colors, 
with  the  view  of  teaching  to  his  other  workmen  the  same 

1  Compare  what  was  said  about  analysis. 


JUDGMENT:  INTERPRETATION   OF  FACTS       105 

skill.  The  workman  came ;  but  his  method  of  propor- 
tioning the  ingredients,  in  which  lay  the  secret  of  the 
effects  he  produced,  was  by  taking  them  up  in  handfuls, 
while  the  common  method  was  to  weigh  them.  The 
manufacturer  sought  to  make  him  turn  his  handling 
system  into  an  equivalent  weighing  system,  that  the 
general  principles  of  his  peculiar  mode  of  proceeding 
might  be  ascertained.  This,  however,  the  man  found 
himself  quite  unable  to  do,  and  could  therefore  impart 
his  own  skill  to  nobody.  He  had,  from  individual  cases 
of  his  own  experience,  established  a  connection  in  his 
mind  between  fine  effects  of  color  and  tactual  percep- 
tions in  handling  his  dyeing  materials ;  and  from  these 
perceptions  he  could,  in  any  particular  case,]  infer  the 
means  to  be  employed  and  the  effects  which  would  be 
produced."  Long  brooding  over  conditions,  intimate 
contact  associated  with  keen  interest,  thorough  absorp- 
tion in  a  multiplicity  of  allied  experiences,  tend  to  bring 
about  those  judgments  which  we  then  call  intuitive;  but 
they  are  true  judgments  because  they  are  based  on  intel- 
ligent selection  and  estimation,  with  the  solution  of  a 
problem  as  the  controlling  standard.  Possession  of  this 
capacity  makes  the  difference  between  the  artist  and  the 
intellectual  bungler. 

Such  is  judging  ability,  in  its  completest  form,  as  to 
the  data  of  the  decision  to  be  reached.  But  in  any  case 
there  is  a  certain  feeling  along  for  the  way  to  be  fol- 
lowed ;  a  constant  tentative  picking  out  of  certain  qual- 
ities to  see  what  emphasis  upon  them  would  lead  to ;  a 
willingness  to  hold  final  selection  in  suspense ;  and  to 
reject  the  factors  entirely  or  relegate  them  to  a  different 
position  in  the  evidential  scheme  if  other  features  yield 
more  solvent  suggestions.  Alertness,  flexibility,  curios- 


1 06 


HOW   WE   THINK 


(b)  To  de- 


priate  prin- 
ciples must 
also  be 
selected 


ity  are  the  essentials;  dogmatism,  rigidity,  prejudice, 
caprice,  arising  from  routine,  passion,  and  flippancy  are 
fatal. 

(&}  This  selection  of  data  is,  of  course,  for  the  sake 
of  controlling  the  development  and  elaboration  of  the  sug- 
gested meaning  in  the  light  of  which  they  are  to  be  inter- 
preted  (compare  p.  76).  An  evolution  of  conceptions 
thus  goes  on  simultaneously  with  the  determination  of  the 
facts  ;  one  possible  meaning  after  another  is  held  before 
the  mind,  considered  in  relation  to  the  data  to  which  it 
is  applied,  is  developed  into  its  more  detailed  bearings 
upon  the  data,  is  dropped  or  tentatively  accepted  and 
used.  We  do  not  approach  any  problem  with  a  wholly 
naive  or  virgin  mind  ;  we  approach  it  with  certain  ac- 
quired habitual  modes  of  understanding,  with  a  certain 
store  of  previously  evolved  meanings,  or  at  least  of  ex- 
periences from  which  meanings  may  be  educed.  If  the 
circumstances  are  such  that  a  habitual  response  is  called 
directly  into  play,  there  is  an  immediate  grasp  of  mean- 
ing. If  the  habit  is  checked,  and  inhibited  from  easy 
application,  a  possible  meaning  for  the  facts  in  question 
presents  itself.  No  hard  and  fast  rules  decide  whether 
a  meaning  suggested  is  the  right  and  proper  meaning  to 
follow  up.  The  individual's  own  good  (or  bad)  judg- 
ment is  the  guide.  There  is  no  label  on  any  given  idea 
or  principle  which  says  automatically,  "  Use  me  in 
this  situation  "  —  as  the  magic  cakes  of  Alice  in  Won- 
derland were  inscribed  "  Eat  me."  The  thinker  has  to 
decide,  to  choose  ;  and  there  is  always  a  risk,  so  that  the 
prudent  thinker  selects  warily,  subject,  that  is,  to  con- 
firmation or  frustration  by  later  events.  If  one  is  not 
able  to  estimate  wisely  what  is  relevant  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  a  given  perplexing  or  doubtful  issue,  it  avails 


JUDGMENT:   INTERPRETATION  OF   FACTS        IO/ 

little  that  arduous  learning  has  built  up  a  large  stock  of 
concepts.  For  learning  is  not  wisdom  ;  information  does 
not  guarantee  good  judgment  Memory  may  provide  an 
antiseptic  refrigerator  in  which  to  store  a  stock  of  mean- 
ings for  future  use,  but  judgment  selects  and  adopts  the 
one  used  in  a  given  emergency — and  without  an  emer- 
gency (some  crisis,  slight  or  great)  there  is  no  call  for 
judgment.  No  conception,  even  if  it  is  carefully  and 
firmly  established  in  the  abstract,  can  at  first  safely  be 
more  than  a  candidate  for  the  office  of  interpreter.  Only 
greater  success  than  that  of  its  rivals  in  clarifying  dark 
spots,  untying  hard  knots,  reconciling  discrepancies,  can 
elect  it  or  prove  it  a  valid  idea  for  the  given  situation. 

3.    The  judgment  when  f ormed  is  a  decision  ;  it  closes  Judging 
(or  concludes)  the  question  at  issue.     This  determination  i^^^cis^m 
not  only  settles  that  particular  case,  but  it  helps  fix  a  °r  statement 
rule  or  method  for  deciding  similar  matters  in  the  future ; 
as  the  sentence  of  the  judge  on  the  bench  both  termi- 
nates that  dispute  and  also  forms  a  precedent  for  future 
decisions.     If  the  interpretation  settled  upon  is  not  con- 
troverted by  subsequent  events,  a  presumption  is  built 
up  in  favor  of  similar  interpretation  in  other  cases  where 
the  features  are  not  so  obviously  unlike  as  to  make  it 
inappropriate.     In  this  way,  principles  of  judging  are 
gradually  built  up ;  a  certain  manner  of  interpretation 
gets  weight,  authority.     In  short,  meanings  get  stand- 
ardized, they  become  logical  concepts  (see  below,  p.  1 18). 

§  2.    The  Origin  and  Nature  of  Ideas 

This  brings  us  to  the  question  of  ideas  in  relation  to  ideas  are 
judgments.1     Something  in  an  obscure    situation    sug-  ^ptoyed68 

1  The  term  idea  is  also  used  popularly  to  denote  (a)  a  mere  fancy,  (3)         J     2    8 
an  accepted  belief,  and  also  (<:)  judgment  itself.     But  logically  it  denotes  a 
certain  factor  in  judgment,  as  explained  in  the  text. 


108  HOW   WE   THINK 

gests  something  else  as  its  meaning.  If  this  meaning  is 
at  once  accepted,  there  is  no  reflective  thinking,  no 
genuine  judging.  Thought  is  cut  short  uncritically ; 
dogmatic  belief,  with  all  its  attending  risks,  takes  place. 
But  if  the  meaning  suggested  is  held  in  suspense,  pend- 
ing examination  and  inquiry,  there  is  true  judgment. 
We  stop  and  think,  we  de-fer  conclusion  in  order  to 
in-fer  more  thoroughly.  In  this  process  of  being  only 
conditionally  accepted,  accepted  only  for  examination, 
meanings  become  ideas.  That  is  to  say,  an  idea  is  a 
meaning'  that  is  tentatively  entertained,  formed,  and 
used  with  reference  to  its  fitness  to  decide  a  per- 
plexing situation,  —  a  meaning  tised  as  a  tool  of 
judgment. 

Or  tools  Let  us  recur  to   our  instance   of  a   blur   in   motion 

°f  ^t'"  appearing  at  a  distance.  We  wonder  what  the  thing  is, 
i.e.  what  the  blur  means.  A  man  waving  his  arms,  a 
friend  beckoning  to  us,  are  suggested  as  possibilities. 
To  accept  at  once  either  alternative  is  to  arrest  judg- 
ment. But  if  we  treat  what  is  suggested  as  only  a  sug- 
gestion, a  supposition,  a  possibility,  it  becomes  an  idea, 
having  the  following  traits  :  (a)  As  merely  a  suggestion, 
it  is  a  conjecture,  a  guess,  which  in  cases  of  greater  dig- 
nity we  call  a  hypothesis  or  a  theory.  That  is  to  say, 
it  is  a  possible  but  as  yet  doubtful  mode  of  interpretation, 
(b)  Even  though  doubtful,  it  has  an  office  to  perform ; 
namely,  that  of  directing  inquiry  and  examination.  If 
this  blur  means  a  friend  beckoning,  then  careful  obser^ 
vation  should  show  certain  other  traits.  If  it  is  a  man 
driving  unruly  cattle,  certain  other  traits  should  be 
found.  Let  us  look  and  see  if  these  traits  are  found. 
Taken  merely  as  a  doubt,  an  idea  would  paralyze  in- 
quiry. Taken  merely  as  a  certainty,  it  would  arrest 


JUDGMENT:   INTERPRETATION  OF   FACTS       109 

inquiry.     Taken  as  a  doubtful  possibility,  it  affords  a 
standpoint,  a  platform,  a  method  of  inquiry. 

Ideas  are  not  then  genuine  ideas  unless  they  are  tools  Pseudo-ideai 
in  a  reflective  examination  which  tends  to  solve  a 
problem.  Suppose  it  is  a  question  of  having  the 
pupil  grasp  the  idea  of  the  sphericity  of  the  earth. 
This  is  different  from  teaching  him  its  sphericity  as  a 
fact.  He  may  be  shown  (or  reminded  of)  a  ball  or  a 
globe,  and  be  told  that  the  earth  is  round  like  those 
things  ;  he  may  then  be  made  to  repeat  that  statement 
day  after  day  till  the  shape  of  the  earth  and  the  shape 
of  the  ball  are  welded  together  in  his  mind.  But  he  has 
not  thereby  acquired  any  idea  of  the  earth's  sphericity  ; 
at  most,  he  has  had  a  certain  image  of  a  sphere  and 
has  finally  managed  to  image  the  earth  after  the  analogy 
of  his  ball  image.  To  grasp  sphericity  as  an  idea,  the 
pupil  must  first  have  realized  certain  perplexities  or 
confusing  features  in  observed  facts  and  have  had  the 
idea  of  spherical  shape  suggested  to  him  as  a  possible 
way  of  accounting  for  the  phenomena  in  question. 
Only  by  use  as  a  method  of  interpreting  data  so  as  to 
give  them  fuller  meaning  does  sphericity  become  a  gen- 
uine idea.  There  may  be  a  vivid  image  and  no  idea ; 
or  there  may  be  a  fleeting,  obscure  image  and  yet  an 
idea,  if  that  image  performs  the  function  of  instigating 
and  directing  the  observation  and  relation  of  facts. 

Logical  ideas  are  like  keys  which  are  shaping  with  ideas  furnis* 
reference   to   opening  a   lock.     Pike,    separated  by   a 
glass  partition  from  the  fish  upon  which  they  ordinarily  "hit  or 
prey,  will  —  so  it  is  said  —  butt  their  heads  against  the 
glass  until  it  is  literally  beaten  into  them  that  they  cannot 
get  at  their  food.     Animals  learn  (when  they  learn  at 
all)  by  a  "  cut  and  try  "  method  ;  by  doing  at  random 


no 


HOW  WE   THINK 


They  are 
methods  of 
indirect 
attack 


first  one  thing  and  another  thing  and  then  preserving 
the  things  that  happen  to  succeed.  Action  directed 
consciously  by  ideas  — by  suggested  meanings  accepted 
for  the  sake  of  experimenting  with  them  —  is  the 
sole  alternative  both  to  bull-headed  stupidity  and 
to  learning  bought  from  that  dear  teacher  —  chance 
experience. 

It  is  significant  that  many  words  for  intelligence 
suggest  the  idea  of  circuitous,  evasive  activity  —  often 
with  a  sort  of  intimation  of  even  moral  obliquity.  The 
bluff,  hearty  man  goes  straight  (and  stupidly,  it  is  im- 
plied) at  some  work.  The  intelligent  man  is  cunning, 
shrewd  (crooked),  wily,  subtle,  crafty,  artful,  designing 
—  the  idea  of  indirection  is  involved.1  An  idea  is  a 
method  of  evading,  circumventing,  or  surmounting 
through  reflection  obstacles  that  otherwise  would  have 
to  be  attacked  by  brute  force.  But  ideas  may  lose  their 
intellectual  quality  as  they  are  habitually  used.  When 
a  child  was  first  learning  to  recognize,  in  some  hesitat- 
ing suspense,  cats,  dogs,  houses,  marbles,  trees,  shoes, 
and  other  objects,  ideas  —  conscious  and  tentative  mean- 
ings—  intervened  as  methods  of  identification.  Now, 
as  a  rule,  the  thing  and  the  meaning  are  so  completely 
fused  that  there  is  no  judgment  and  no  idea  proper,  but 
only  automatic  recognition.  On  the  other  hand,  things 
that  are,  as  a  rule,  directly  apprehended  and  familiar 
become  subjects  of  judgment  when  they  present  them- 
selves in  unusual  contexts :  as  forms,  distances,  sizes, 
positions  when  we  attempt  to  draw  them ;  triangles, 
squares,  and  circles  when  they  turn  up,  not  in  connec- 
tion with  familiar  toys,  implements,  and  utensils,  but 
as  problems  in  geometry. 

1  See  Ward,  Psychic  Factors  of  Civilization,  p.  153. 


JUDGMENT:    INTERPRETATION  OF   FACTS       III 

§  3.    Analysis  and  Synthesis 

Through  judging  confused  data  are  cleared  up,  and  Judging 
seemingly  incoherent  and  disconnected  facts  brought  things^ 
together.  Things  may  have  a  peculiar  feeling  for  us,  analysis 
they  may  make  a  certain  indescribable  impression  upon 
us ;  the  thing  may  feet  round  (that  is,  present  a  quality 
which  we  afterwards  define  as  round),  an  act  may  seem 
rude  (or  what  we  afterwards  classify  as  rude),  and  yet 
this  quality  may  be  lost,  absorbed,  blended  in  the  total 
value  of  the  situation.  Only  as  we  need  to  use  just  that 
aspect  of  the  original  situation  as  a  tool  of  grasping 
something  perplexing  or  obscure  in  another  situation, 
do  we  abstract  or  detach  the  quality  so  that  it  becomes 
individualized.  Only  because  we  need  to  characterize 
the  shape  of  some  new  object  or  the  moral  quality  of 
some  new  act,  does  the  element  of  roundness  or  rudeness 
in  the  old  experience  detach  itself,  and  stand  out  as  a 
distinctive  feature.  If  the  element  thus  selected  clears 
up  what  is  otherwise  obscure  in  the  new  experience,  if 
it  settles  what  is  uncertain,  it  thereby  itself  gains  in 
positiveness  and  definiteness  of  meaning.  This  point 
will  meet  us  again  in  the  following  chapter;  here  we 
shall  speak  of  the  matter  only  as  it  bears  upon  the 
questions  of  analysis  and  synthesis. 

Even  when  it  is  definitely  stated  that  intellectual  and  Mental 
physical  analyses  are  different  sorts   of  operations,  in-  £"*  like*  * 
tellectual  analysis  is  often  treated  after  the  analogy  of  physical 

.  division 

physical ;  as  if  it  were  the  breaking  up  of  a  whole  into 

all  its  constituent  parts  in  the  mind  instead  of  in  space. 
As  nobody  can  possibly  tell  what  breaking  a  whole  into 
its  parts  in  the  mind  means,  this  conception  leads  to  the 
further  notion  that  logical  analysis  is  a  mere  enumera- 
tion and  listing  of  all  conceivable  qualities  and  relations. 


112 


HOW   WE  THINK 


Misappre- 
hension of 
analysis  in 
education 


Effects  of 
premature 
formulation 


The  influence  upon  education  of  this  conception  has 
been  very  great.1  Every  subject  in  the  curriculum  has 
passed  through  —  or  still  remains  in  —  what  may  be 
called  the  phase  of  anatomical  or  morphological  method  : 
the  stage  in  which  understanding  the  subject  is  thought 
to  consist  of  multiplying  distinctions  of  quality,  form, 
relation,  and  so  on,  and  attaching  some  name  to  each 
distinguished  element.  In  normal  growth,  specific 
properties  are  emphasized  and  so  individualized  only 
when  they  serve  to  clear  up  a  present  difficulty.  Only 
as  they  are  involved  in  judging  some  specific  situation 
is  there  any  motive  or  use  for  analyses,  i.e.  for  emphasis 
upon  some  element  or  relation  as  peculiarly  significant. 
The  same  putting  the  cart  before  the  horse,  the  prod- 
uct before  the  process,  is  found  in  that  overconscious 
formulation  of  methods  of  procedure  so  current  in  ele- 
mentary instruction.  (See  p.  60.)  The  method  that 
is  employed  in  discovery,  in  reflective  inquiry,  cannot 
possibly  be  identified  with  the  method  that  emerges 
after  the  discovery  is  made.  In  the  genuine  operation 
of  inference,  the  mind  is  in  the  attitude  of  search,  of 
hunting,  Qi  projection,  of  trying  this  and  that ;  when  the 
conclusion  is  reached,  the  search  is  at  an  end.  The 
Greeks  used  to  discuss  :  "  How  is  learning  (or  inquiry) 
possible?  For  either  we  know  already  what  we  are 
after,  and  then  we  do  not  learn  or  inquire;  or  we  do 
not  know,  and  then  we  cannot  inquire,  for  we  do  not 
know  what  to  look  for."  The  dilemma  is  at  least  sug- 
gestive, for  it  points  to  the  true  alternative :  the  use  in 
inquiry  of  doubt,  of  tentative  suggestion,  of  experimen- 

1  Thus  arise  all  those  falsely  analytic  methods  in  geography,  reading, 
writing,  drawing,  botany,  arithmetic,  which  we  have  already  considered  in 
another  connection.  (See  p.  59.) 


JUDGMENT:   INTERPRETATION   OF   FACTS       113 

tation.  After  we  have  reached  the  conclusion,  a  recon- 
sideration of  the  steps  of  the  process  t6  see  what  is 
helpful,  what  is  harmful,  what  is  merely  useless,  will 
assist  in  dealing  more  promptly  and  efficaciously  with 
analogous  problems  in  the  future.  In  this  way,  more  or 
less  explicit  method  is  gradually  built  up.  (Compare 
the  earlier  discussion  on  p.  62  of  the  psychological  and 
the  logical.) 

It  is,  however,  a  common  assumption  that  unless  the  Method 
pupil  from  the  outset  consciously  recognizes  and  explicitly  before  its 
states  the  method  logically  implied  in  the  result  he  is  to  formulation 
reach,  he  will  have  no  method,  and  his  mind  will  work 
confusedly  or  anarchically ;  while  if  he  accompanies  his 
performance  with  conscious  statement  of  some  form  of 
procedure  (outline,  topical  analysis,  list  of  headings  and 
subheadings,  uniform  formula)  his  mind  is  safeguarded 
and  strengthened.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  develop- 
ment of  an  unconscious  logical  attitude  and  habit  must  " 
come  first.  A  conscious  setting  forth  of  the  method 
logically  adapted  for  reaching  an  end  is  possible  only 
after  the  result  has  first  been  reached  by  more  uncon- 
scious and  tentative  methods,  while  it  is  valuable  only 
when  a  review  of  the  method  that  achieved  success  in  a 
given  case  will  throw  light  upon  a  new,  similar  case. 
The  ability  to  fasten  upon  and  single  out  (abstract, 
analyze)  those  features'  of  one  experience  which  are 
logically  best  is  hindered  by  premature  insistence  upon 
their  explicit  formulation.  It  is  repeated  use  that  gives 
a  method  definiteness ;  and  given  this  definiteness,  pre- 
cipitation into  formulated  statement  should  follow  natu- 
rally. But  because  teachers  find  that  the  things  which 
they  themselves  best  understand  are  marked  off  and  de- 
fined in  clear-cut  ways,  our  schoolrooms  are  pervaded 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Judgment 
reveals  the 
bearing  or 
significance 
of  facts : 
synthesis 


Analysis  and 
synthesis 
are  cor- 
relative 


with  the  superstition  that  children  are  to  begin  with 
already  crystallized  formulas  of  method. 

As  analysis  is  conceived  to  be  a  sort  of  picking  to 
pieces,  so  synthesis  is  thought  to  be  a  sort  of  physical 
piecing  together ;  and  so  imagined,  it  also  becomes  a 
mystery.  In  fact,  synthesis  takes  place  wherever  we 
grasp  the  bearing  of  facts  on  a  conclusion,  or  of  a  prin- 
ciple on  facts.  As  analysis  is  emphasis,  so  synthesis  is 
placing;  the  one  causes  the  emphasized  fact  or  property 
to  stand  out  as  significant;  the  other  gives  what  is  se- 
lected its  context,  or  its  connection  with  what  is  signified. 
Every  judgment  is  analytic  in  so  far  as  it  involves  dis- 
cernment, discrimination,  marking  off  the  trivial  from 
the  important,  the  irrelevant  from  what  points  to  a  con- 
clusion ;  and  it  is  synthetic  in  so  far  as  it  leaves  the  mind 
with  an  inclusive  situation  within  which  the  selected 
facts  are  placed. 

Educational  methods  that  pride  themselves  on  being 
exclusively  analytic  or  exclusively  synthetic  are  therefore 
(so  far  as  they  carry  out  their  boasts)  incompatible  with 
normal  operations  of  judgment.  Discussions  have  taken 
place,  for  example,  as  to  whether  the  teaching  of  geogra- 
phy should  be  analytic  or  synthetic.  The  synthetic 
method  is  supposed  to  begin  with  the  partial,  limited 
portion  of  the  earth's  surface  already  familiar  to  the 
pupil,  and  then  gradually  piece  on  adjacent  regions  (the 
county,  the  country,  the  continent,  and  so  on)  till  an 
idea  of  the  entire  globe  is  reached,  or  of  the  solar  system 
that  includes  the  globe.  The  analytic  method  is  supposed 
to  begin  with  the  physical  whole,  the  solar  system  or 
globe,  and  to  work  down  through  its  constituent  portions 
till  the  immediate  environment  is  reached.  The  under* 
lying  conceptions  are  of  physical  wholes  and  physical 


JUDGMENT:   INTERPRETATION  OF   FACTS       115 

parts.  As  matter  of  fact,  we  cannot  assume  that  the 
portion  of  the  earth  already  familiar  to  the  child  is  such 
a  definite  object,  mentally,  that  he  can  at  once  begin  with 
it ;  his  knowledge  of  it  is  misty  and  vague  as  well  as  in- 
complete. Accordingly,  mental  progress  will  involve 
analysis  of  it  —  emphasis  of  the  features  that  are  signifi- 
cant, so  that  they  will  stand  out  clearly.  Moreover,  his 
own  locality  is  not  sharply  marked  off,  neatly  bounded, 
and  measured.  His  experience  of  it  is  already  an  ex- 
perience that  involves  sun,  moon,  and  stars  as  parts  of 
the  scene  he  surveys ;  it  involves  a  changing  horizon 
line  as  he  moves  about ;  that  is,  even  his  more  limited 
and  local  experience  involves  far-reaching  factors  that 
take  his  imagination  clear  beyond  his  own  street  and 
village.  Connection,  relationship  with  a  larger  whole,  is 
already  involved.  But  his  recognition  of  these  relations 
is  inadequate,  vague,  incorrect.  He  needs  to  utilize  the 
features  of  the  local  environment  which  are  understood 
to  help  clarify  and  enlarge  his  conceptions  of  the  larger 
geographical  scene  to  which  they  belong.  At  the  same 
time,  not  till  he  has  grasped  the  larger  scene  will  many 
of  even  the  commonest  features  of  his  environment 
become  intelligible.  Analysis  leads  to  synthesis ;  while 
synthesis  perfects  analysis.  As  the  pupil  grows  in  com- 
prehension of  the  vast  complicated  earth  in  its  setting  in 
space,  he  also  sees  more  definitely  the  meaning  of  the 
familiar  local  details.  This  intimate  interaction  between 
selective  emphasis  and  interpretation  of  what  is  selected 
is  found  wherever  reflection  proceeds  normally.  Hence 
the  folly  of  trying  to  set  analysis  and  synthesis  over 
against  each  other. 


CHAPTER   NINE 


Meaning 
is  centra] 


To  under- 
stand is 
to  grasp 
meaning 


MEANING:  OR  CONCEPTIONS   AND  UNDERSTANDING 

§  i.    The  Place  of  Meanings  in  Mental  Life 

As  in  our  discussion  of  judgment  we  were  making 
more  explicit  what  is  involved  in  inference,  so  in  the 
discussion  of  meaning  we  are  only  recurring  to  the 
central  function  of  all  reflection.  For  one  thing  to 
mean,  signify,  betoken,  indicate,  or  point  to,  another  we 
saw  at  the  outset  to  be  the  essential  mark  of  thinking 
(see  p.  8).  To  find  out  what  facts,  just  as  they  stand, 
mean,  is  the  object  of  all  discovery ;  to  find  out  what 
facts  will  carry  out,  substantiate,  support  a  given  mean- 
ing, is  the  object  of  all  testing.  When  an  inference 
reaches  a  satisfactory  conclusion,  we  attain  a  goal  of 
meaning.  The  act  of  judging  involves  both  the  growth 
and  the  application  of  meanings.  In  short,  in  this  chap- 
ter we  are  not  introducing  a  new  topic ;  we  are  only 
coming  to  closer  quarters  with  what  hitherto  has  been 
constantly  assumed.  In  the  first  section,  we  shall  con- 
sider the  equivalence  of  meaning  and  understanding, 
and  the  two  types  of  understanding,  direct  and  indirect. 

I.   MEANING  AND  UNDERSTANDING 

If  a  person  comes  suddenly  into  your  room  and  calls 
out  "  Paper,"  various  alternatives  are  possible.  If  you 
do  not  understand  the  English  language,  there  is  simply 
a  noise  which  mayor  may  not  act  as  a  physical  stimulus 

116 


MEANING  117 

and  irritant.  But  the  noise  is  not  an  intellectual  object ;  it 
does  not  have  intellectual  value.  (Compare  above,  p.  1 5.) 
To  say  that  you  do  not  understand  it  and  that  it  has  no 
meaning  are  equivalents.  If  the  cry  is  the  usual  ac- 
companiment of  the  delivery  of  the  morning  paper,  the 
sound  will  have  meaning,  intellectual  content ;  you  will 
understand  it.  Or  if  you  are  eagerly  awaiting  the  re- 
ceipt of  some  important  document,  you  may  assume 
that  the  cry  means  an  announcement  of  its  arrival.  If 
(in  the  third  place)  you  understand  the  English  lan- 
guage, but  no  context  suggests  itself  from  your  habits 
and  expectations,  the  word  has  meaning,  but  not  the 
whole  event.  You  are  then  perplexed  and  incited  to 
think  out,  to  hunt  for,  some  explanation  of  the  appar- 
ently meaningless  occurrence.  If  you  find  something 
that  accounts  for  the  performance,  it  gets  meaning ;  you 
come  to  understand  it.  As  intelligent  beings,  we  pre- 
sume the  existence  of  meaning,  and  its  absence  is  an 
anomaly.  Hence,  if  it  should  turn  out  that  the  person 
merely  meant  to  inform  you  that  there  was  a  scrap  of 
paper  on  the  sidewalk,  or  that  paper  existed  somewhere 
in  the  universe,  you  would  think  him  crazy  or  your- 
self the  victim  of  a  poor  joke.  To  grasp  a  meaning,  to 
understand,  to  identify  a  thing  in  a  situation  in  which 
it  is  important,  are  thus  equivalent  terms ;  they  express 
the  nerves  of  our  intellectual  life.  Without  them 
there  is  (a)  lack  of  intellectual  content,  or  (b}  intellec- 
tual confusion  and  perplexity,  or  else  (c)  intellectual 
perversion  —  nonsense,  insanity. 

All  knowledge,  all  science,  thus  aims  to  grasp  the  Knowledge 
meaning  of  objects  and  events,  and  this  process  always  a 
consists  in  taking  them  out  of  their  apparent  brute  iso- 
lation as  events,  and  finding  them  to  be  parts  of  some 


n8 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Direct  and 
circuitous 
under- 
standing 


larger  whole  suggested  by  them,  which,  in  turn,  accounts 
for,  explains,  interprets  them  ;  i.e.  renders  them  signifi- 
cant. (Compare  above,  p.  75.)  Suppose  that  a  stone 
with  peculiar  markings  has  been  found.  What  do  these 
scratches  mean  ?  So  far  as  the  object  forces  the  raising 
of  this  question,  it  is  not  understood ;  while  so  far  as 
the  color  and  form  that  we  see  mean  to  us  a  stone,  the 
object  is  understood.  It  is  such  peculiar  combinations 
of  the  understood  and  the  nonunderstood  that  provoke 
thought.  If  at  the  end  of  the  inquiry,  the  markings 
are  decided  to  mean  glacial  scratches,  obscure  and 
perplexing  traits  have  been  translated  into  meanings 
already  understood :  namely,  the  moving  and  grinding 
power  of  large  bodies  of  ice  and  the  friction  thus 
induced  of  one  rock  upon  another.  Something  al- 
ready understood  in  one  situation  has  been  transferred 
and  applied  to  what  is  strange  and  perplexing  in  another, 
and  thereby  the  latter  has  become  plain  and  familiar,  i.e. 
understood.  This  summary  illustration  discloses  that 
our  power  to  think  effectively  depends  upon  possession 
of  a  capital  fund  of  meanings  which  may  be  applied 
when  desired.  (Compare  what  was  said  about  deduction, 
P.  94-) 

II.   DIRECT  AND  INDIRECT  UNDERSTANDING 

In  the  above  illustrations  two  types  of  grasping  of 
meaning  are  exemplified.  When  the  English  language 
is  understood,  the  person  grasps  at  once  the  meaning  of 
"paper."  He  may  not,  however,  see  any  meaning  or 
sense  in  the  performance  as  a  whole.  Similarly,  the 
person  identifies  the  object  on  sight  as  a  stone ;  there 
is  no  secret,  no  mystery,  no  perplexity  about  that.  But 
he  does  not  understand  the  markings  on  it.  They  have 


MEANING  119 

some  meaning,  but  what  is  it  ?  In  one  case,  owing  to 
familiar  acquaintance,  the  thing  and  its  meaning,  up  to 
a  certain  point,  are  one.  In  the  other,  the  thing  and  its 
meaning  are,  temporarily  at  least,  sundered,  and  meaning 
has  to  be  sought  in  order  to  understand  the  thing.  In 
one  case  understanding  is  direct,  prompt,  immediate  ;  in 
the  other,  it  is  roundabout  and  delayed. 

Most  languages  have  two  sets  of  words  to  express  interaction 
these  two  modes  of  understanding ;  one  for  the  direct  ^*hfL. 
taking  in  or  grasp  of  meaning,  the  other  for  its  circui- 
tous apprehension,  thus :  ^vwvai  and  elSevat  in  Greek ; 
noscere  and  scire  in  Latin  ;  kennen  and  wissen  in  German  ; 
connaitre  and  savoir  in  French ;  while  in  English  to  be 
acquainted  with  and  to  know  of  or  about  have  been  sug- 
gested as  equivalents.1  Now  our  intellectual  life  con- 
sists of  a  peculiar  interaction  between  these  two  types  of 
understanding.  All  judgment,  all  reflective  inference, 
presupposes  some  lack  of  understanding,  a  partial 
absence  of  meaning.  We  reflect  in  order  that  we  may 
get  hold  of  the  full  and  adequate  significance  of  what 
happens.  Nevertheless,  something  must  be  already 
understood,  the  mind  must  be  in  possession  of  some 
meaning  which  it  has  mastered,  or  else  thinking  is  im- 
possible. We  think  in  order  to  grasp  meaning,  but 
none  the  less  every  extension  of  knowledge  makes  us 
aware  of  blind  and  opaque  spots,  where  with  less  knowl- 
edge all  had  seemed  obvious  and  natural.  A  scientist 
brought  into  a  new  district  will  find  many  things  that 
he  does  not  understand,  where  the  native  savage  or 

1  James,  Principles   of  Psychology,  vol.  I,  p.  221.     To  know  and  to 
know  that  are  perhaps  more  precise  equivalents;   compare  "  I  know  him" 
and  "  I  know  that  he  has  gone  home."     The  former  expresses  a  fact 
'  simply  ;  foK  the  latter,  evidence  might  be  demanded  and  supplied. 


I2O 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Intellectual 
progress 
a  rhythm 


rustic  will  be  wholly  oblivious  to  any  meanings  beyond 
those  directly  apparent.  Some  Indians  brought  to  a 
large  city  remained  stolid  at  the  sight  of  mechanical 
wonders  of  bridge,  trolley,  and  telephone,  but  were  held 
spellbound  by  the  sight  of  workmen  climbing  poles  to 
repair  wires.  Increase  of  the  store  of  meanings  makes 
us  conscious  of  new  problems,  while  only  through  trans- 
lation of  the  new  perplexities  into  what  is  already  familiar 
and  plain  do  we  understand  or  solve  these  problems. 
This  is  the  constant  spiral  movement  of  knowledge. 

Our  progress  in  genuine  knowledge  always  consists  in 
part  in  the  discovery  of  something  not  iinderstood  in  what 
had  previously  been  taken  for  granted  as  plain,  obvious, 
matter-of-course,  and  in  part  in  the  use  of  meanings  that 
are  directly  grasped  without  question,  as  instruments 
for  getting  hold  of  obscure,  doubtful,  and  perplexing 
meanings.  No  object  is  so  familiar,  so  obvious,  so 
commonplace  that  it  may  not  unexpectedly  present,  in  a 
novel  situation,  some  problem,  and  thus  arouse  reflec- 
tion in  order  to  understand  it.  No  object  or  principle  is 
so  strange,  peculiar,  or  remote  that  it  may  not  be  dwelt 
upon  till  its  meaning  becomes  familiar  —  taken  in  on 
sight  without  reflection.  We  may  come  to  see,  perceive, 
recognize, grasp,  seize,  lay  hold  ^/"principles,  laws,  abstract 
truths  —  i.e.  to  understand  their  meaning  in  very  im- 
mediate fashion.  Our  intellectual  progress  consists,  as 
has  been  said,  in  a  rhythm  of  direct  understanding  — 
technically  called  ^/prehension — with  indirect,  mediated 
understanding  —  technically  called  £<?wprehension. 

§  2.    The  Process  of  Acquiring  Meanings 

Familiarity        The  first  problem  that  comes  up  in  connection  with 
direct  understanding  is  how  a  store  of  directly  apprehen- 


MEANING  121 

sible  meanings  is  builtup.  How  do  we  learn  to  view  things 
on  sight  as  significant  members  of  a  situation,  or  as 
having,  as  a  matter  of  course,  specific  meanings  ?  Our 
chief  difficulty  in  answering  this  question  lies  in  the 
thoroughness  with  which  the  lesson  of  familiar  things 
has  been  learnt.  Thought  can  more  easily  traverse  an 
unexplored  region  than  it  can  undo  what  has  been  so 
thoroughly  done  as  to  be  ingrained  in  unconscious 
habit.  We  apprehend  chairs,  tables,  books,  trees, 
horses,  clouds,  stars,  rain,  so  promptly  and  directly  that 
it  is  hard  to  realize  that  as  meanings  they  had  once  to 
be  acquired,  —  the  meanings  are  now  so  much  parts  of 
the  things  themselves. 

In  an  often  quoted  passage,  Mr.  James  has  said :  "  The  Confusion 
baby,  assailed  by  eyes,  ears,  nose,  skin,  and  entrails  at 
once,  feels  it  all  as  one  great  blooming,  buzzing  con- 
fusion." l  Mr.  James  is  speaking  of  a  baby's  world 
taken  as  a  whole ;  the  description,  however,  is  equally 
applicable  to  the  way  any  new  thing  strikes  an  adult,  so 
far  as  the  thing  is  really  new  and  strange.  To  the  tra- 
ditional "  cat  in  a  strange  garret,"  everything  is  blurred 
and  confused ;  the  wonted  marks  that  label  things  so  as 
to  separate  them  from  one  another  are  lacking.  Foreign 
languages  that  we  do  not  understand  always  seem  jab- 
berings,  babblings,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  fix  a  defi- 
nite, clear-cut,  individualized  group  of  sounds.  The 
countryman  in  the  crowded  city  street,  the  landlubber 
at  sea,  the  ignoramus  in  sport  at  a  contest  between  ex- 
perts in  a  complicated  game,  are  further  instances.  Put 
an  unexperienced  man  in  a  factory,  and  at  first  the  work 
seems  to  him  a  meaningless  medley.  All  strangers  of 
another  race  proverbially  look  alike  to  the  visiting 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  I,  p.  488. 


122 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Practical 
responses 
clarify 
confusion 


foreigner.  Only  gross  differences  of  size  or  color  are 
perceived  by  an  outsider  in  a  flock  of  sheep,  each  of 
which  is  perfectly  individualized  to  the  shepherd.  A 
diffusive  blur  and  an  indiscriminately  shifting  suction 
characterize  what  we  do  not  understand.  The  problem 
of  the  acquisition  of  meaning  by  things,  or  (stated  in 
another  way)  of  forming  habits  of  simple  apprehension, 
is  thus  the  problem  of  introducing  (z)  definiteness  and 
distinction  and  (ii)  consistency  or  stability  of  meaning 
into  what  is  otherwise  vague  and  wavering. 

The  acquisition  of  definiteness  and  of  coherency  (or 
constancy)  of  meanings  is  derived  primarily  from  practi- 
cal activities.  By  rolling  an  object,  the  child  makes  its 
roundness  appreciable;  by  bouncing  it,  he  singles  out 
its  elasticity  ;  by  throwing  it,  he  makes  weight  its  conspic- 
uous distinctive  factor.  Not  through  the  senses,  but  by 
means  of  the  reaction,  the  responsive  adjustment,  is  the 
impression  made  distinctive,  and  given  a  character 
marked  off  from  other  qualities  that  call  out  unlike  re- 
actions. Children,  for  example,  are  usually  quite  slow 
in  apprehending  differences  of  color.  Differences  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  adult  so  glaring  that  it  is  impossible 
not  to  note  them  are  recognized  and  recalled  with  great 
difficulty.  Doubtless  they  do  not  all  feel  alike,  but  there 
is  no  intellectual  recognition  of  what  makes  the  differ- 
ence. The  redness  or  greenness  or  blueness  of  the  object 
does  not  tend  to  call  out  a  reaction  that  is  sufficiently 
peculiar  to  give  prominence  or  distinction  to  the  color 
trait.  Gradually,  however,  certain  characteristic  habitual 
responses  associate  themselves  with  certain  things ;  the 
white  becomes  the  sign,  say,  of  milk  and  sugar,  to  which 
the  child  reacts  favorably ;  blue  becomes  the  sign  of  a 
dress  that  the  child  likes  to  wear,  and  so  on ;  and  the 


MEANING  123 

distinctive  reactions  tend  to  single  out  color  qualities 
from  other  things  in  which  they  had  been  submerged. 

Take  another  example.  We  have  little  difficulty  in  We  identify 
distinguishing  from  one  another  rakes,  hoes,  plows  and  jynu!j  or 
harrows,  shovels  and  spades.  Each  has  its  own  associ- 
ated characteristic  use  and  function.  We  may  have, 
however,  great  difficulty  in  recalling  the  difference  be- 
tween serrate  and  dentate,  ovoid  and  obovoid,  in  the 
shapes  and  edges  of  leaves,  or  between  acids  in  ic  and 
in  ous.  There  is  some  difference  ;  but  just  what  ?  Or, 
we  know  what  the  difference  is ;  but  which  is  which  ? 
Variations  in  form,  size,  color,  and  arrangement  of  parts 
have  much  less  to  do,  and  the  uses,  purposes,  and  func- 
tions of  things  and  of  their  parts  much  more  to  do, 
with  distinctness  of  character  and  meaning  than  we 
should  be  likely  to  think.  What  misleads  us  is  the  fact 
that  the  qualities  of  form,  size,  color,  and  so  on,  are 
now  so  distinct  that  we  fail  to  see  that  the  problem  is 
precisely  to  account  for  the  way  in  which  they  origi- 
nally obtained  their  definiteness  and  conspicuousness. 
So  far  as  we  sit  passive  before  objects,  they  are  not  dis- 
tinguished out  of  a  vague  blur  which  swallows  them  all. 
Differences  in  the  pitch  and  intensity  of  sounds  leave 
behind  a  different  feeling,  but  until  we  assume  different 
attitudes  toward  them,  or  do  something  special  in  refer- 
ence to  them,  their  vague  difference  cannot  be  intel- 
lectually gripped  and  retained. 

Children's   drawings  afford  a  further  exemplification  Children's 
of  the  same  principle.     Perspective  does  not  exist,  for  agrafe 
the  child's  interest  is  not  in  pictorial  representation,  but  domination 
in   the   things  represented ;    and   while   perspective  is    y  V1 
essential  to  the  former,  it  is  no  part  of  the  characteristic 
uses  and  values  of  the  things  themselves.     The  house 


124  HOW  WE 

is  drawn  with  transparent  walls,  because  the  rooms, 
chairs,  beds,  people  inside,  are  the  important  things  in 
the  house-meaning;  smoke  always  comes  out  of  the 
chimney  —  otherwise,  why  have  a  chimney  at  all  ?  At 
Christmas  time,  the  stockings  may  be  drawn  almost  as 
large  as  the  house  or  even  so  large  that  they  have  to  be 
put  outside  of  it :  —  in  any  case,  it  is  the  scale  of  values 
in  use  that  furnishes  the  scale  for  their  qualities,  the  pic- 
tures being  diagrammatic  reminders  of  these  values,  not 
impartial  records  of  physical  and  sensory  qualities.  One 
of  the  chief  difficulties  felt  by  most  persons  in  learn- 
ing the  art  of  pictorial  representation  is  that  habitual  uses 
and  results  of  use  have  become  so  intimately  read  into 
the  character  of  things  that  it  is  practically  impossible  to 
shut  them  out  at  will. 

As  do  sounds  The  acquiring  of  meaning  by  sounds,  in  virtue  of  which 
language  ^ey  become  words,  is  perhaps  the  most  striking  illustra- 
signs  tion  that  can  be  found  of  the  way  in  which  mere  sensory 

stimuli  acquire  definiteness  and  constancy  of  meaning 
and  are  thereby  themselves  denned  and  interconnected 
for  purposes  of  recognition.  Language  is  a  specially 
good  example  because  there  are  hundreds  or  even  thou- 
sands of  words  in  which  meaning  is  now  so  thoroughly 
consolidated  with  physical  qualities  as  to  be  directly 
apprehended,  while  in  the  case  of  words  it  is  easier 
to  recognize  that  this  connection  has  been  gradually  and 
laboriously  acquired  than  in  the  case  of  physical  objects 
such  as  chairs,  tables,  buttons,  trees,  stones,  hills,  flowers, 
and  so  on,  where  it  seems  as  if  the  union  of  intellectual 
character  and  meaning  with  the  physical  fact  were  abo- 
riginal, and  thrust  upon  us  passively  rather  than  acquired 
through  active  explorations.  And  in  the  case  of  the 
meaning  of  words,  we  see  readily  that  it  is  by  making 


MEANING  125 

sounds  and  noting  the  results  which  follow,  by  listening 
to  the  sounds  of  others  and  watching  the  activities 
which  accompany  them,  that  a  given  sound  finally 
becomes  the  stable  bearer  of  a  meaning. 

Familiar  acquaintance  with  meanings  thus  signifies  Summary 
that  we  have  acquired  in  the  presence  of  objects  definite 
attitudes  of  response  which  lead  us,  without  reflection, 
to  anticipate  certain  possible  consequences.  The  defi- 
niteness  of  the  expectation  defines  the  meaning  or  takes 
it  out  of  the  vague  and  pulpy ;  its  habitual,  recurrent 
character  gives  the  meaning  constancy,  stability,  con- 
sistency, or  takes  it  out  of  the  fluctuating  and  wavering. 

§  3.    Conceptions  and  Meaning 

The  word  meaning  is  a  familiar  everyday  term ;  the  A  concep- 
words  conception,  notion,  are  both  popular  and  technical  *10°  "  a 
terms.     Strictly  speaking,  they  involve,  however,  noth-  meaning 
ing  new ;  any  meaning  sufficiently  individualized  to  be 
directly  grasped  and  readily  used,  and  thus  fixed  by  a 
word,  is  a  conception  or  notion.     Linguistically,  every 
common  noun  is  the  carrier  of  a  meaning,  while  proper 
nouns  and  common  nouns  with  the  word  this  or  that  pre- 
fixed, refer  to  the  things  in  which  the  meanings  are  ex- 
emplified.    That  thinking  both  employs  and  expands 
notions,  conceptions,  is  then  simply  saying  that  in  infer- 
ence and  judgment  we  use  meanings,  and  that  this  use 
also  corrects  and  widens  them. 

Various  persons  talk  about  an  object  not  physically  which  is 
present,  and  yet  all  get  the  same  material  of  belief.  **JJJdard" 
The  same  person  in  different  moments  often  refers  to  the 
same  object  or  kind  of  objects.     The  sense  experience, 
the  physical  conditions,  the   psychological   conditions, 
vary,  but  the  same  meaning  is  conserved.     If  pounds 


126 


HOW  WE   THINK 


By  it  we 

identify  the 
unknown 


and  supple- 
ment the 
sensibly 
present 


arbitrarily  changed  their  weight,  and  foot  rules  their 
length,  while  we  were  using  them,  obviously  we  could 
not  weigh  nor  measure.  This  would  be  our  intellectual 
position  if  meanings  could  not  be  maintained  with  a  cer- 
tain stability  and  constancy  through  a  variety  of  physical 
and  personal  changes. 

To  insist  upon  the  fundamental  importance  of  concep- 
tions would,  accordingly,  only  repeat  what  has  been 
said.  We  shall  merely  summarize,  saying  that  concep- 
tions, or  standard  meanings,  are  instruments  (z)  of  iden- 
tification, (ii)  of  supplementation,  and  (Hi}  of  placing 
in  a  system.  Suppose  a  little  speck  of  light  hitherto 
unseen  is  detected  in  the  heavens.  Unless  there  is  a 
store  of  meanings  to  fall  back  upon  as  tools  of  inquiry 
and  reasoning,  that  speck  of  light  will  remain  just  what 
it  is  to  the  senses  —  a  mere  speck  of  light.  For  all  that 
it  leads  to,  it  might  as  well  be  a  mere  irritation  of  the 
optic  nerve.  Given  the  stock  of  meanings  acquired  in 
prior  experience,  this  speck  of  light  is  mentally  attacked 
by  means  of  appropriate  concepts.  Does  it  indicate 
asteroid,  or  comet,  or  a  new-forming  sun,  or  a  nebula 
resulting  from  some  cosmic  collision  or  disintegration  ? 
Each  of  these  conceptions  has  its  own  specific  and  dif- 
ferentiating characters,  which  are  then  sought  for  by 
minute  and  persistent  inquiry.  As  a  result,  then,  the 
speck  is  identified,  we  will  say,  as  a  comet.  Through 
a  standard  meaning,  it  gets  identity  and  stability  of 
character.  Supplementation  then  takes  --place .  All 
the  known  qualities  of  comets  are  read  into  this  par- 
ticular thing,  even  though  they  have  not  been  as  yet 
observed.  All  that  the  astronomers  of  the  past  have 
learned  about  the  paths  and  structure  of  comets  be- 
comes available  capital  with  which  to  interpret  the  speck 


MEANING  127 

of  light.  Finally,  this  comet-meaning  is  itself  not  iso-  and  also 
lated;  it  is  a  related  portion  of  the  whole  system  of 
astronomic  knowledge.  Suns,  planets,  satellites,  neb- 
ulae, comets,  meteors,  star  dust  —  all  these  conceptions 
have  a  certain  mutuality  of  reference  and  interaction, 
and  when  the  speck  of  light  is  identified  as  meaning  a 
comet,  it  is  at  once  adopted  as  a  full  member  in  this  vast 
kingdom  of  beliefs. 

Darwin,  in  an  autobiographical  sketch,  says  that  importance 
when  a  youth  he  told  the  geologist,  Sidgwick,  of  find- 
ing  a  tropical  shell  in  a  certain  gravel  pit.  Thereupon 
Sidgwick  said  it  must  have  been  thrown  there  by  some 
person,  adding :  "  But  if  it  were  really  embedded  there, 
it  would  be  the  greatest  misfortune  to  geology,  because 
it  would  overthrow  all  that  we  know  about  the  superficial 
deposits  of  the  Midland  Counties "  —  since  they  were 
glacial.  And  then  Darwin  adds :  "  I  was  then  utterly 
astonished  at  Sidgwick  not  being  delighted  at  so  won- 
derful a  fact  as  a  tropical  shell  being  found  near  the 
surface  in  the  middle  of  England.  Nothing  before  had 
made  me  thoroughly  realize  that  science  consists  in  group- 
ing facts  so  that  general  laws  or  conclusions  may  be  drawn 
from  them.'"  This  instance  (which  might,  of  course,  be 
duplicated  from  any  branch  of  science)  indicates  how 
scientific  notions  make  explicit  the  systematizing  tend- 
ency involved  in  all  use  of  concepts. 

§  4.    WJiat  Conceptions  are  Not 

The  idea  that  a  conception  is  a  meaning  that  sup- 
plies a  standard  rule  for  the  identification  and  placing 
of  particulars  may  be  contrasted  with  some  current  mis- 
apprehensions of  its  nature. 

i.   Conceptions  are  not  derived  from  a  multitude  of 


128  HOW  WE   THINK 

A  concept  different  definite  objects  by  leaving  out  the  qualities  in 
^not  a  bare  whjcn  they  differ  and  retaining  those  in  which  they  agree. 
The  origin  of  concepts  is  sometimes  described  to  be  as 
if  a  child  began  with  a  lot  of  different  particular  things, 
say  particular  dogs  ;  his  own  Fido,  his  neighbor's  Carlo, 
his  cousin's  Tray.  Having  all  these  different  objects  be- 
fore him,  he  analyzes  them  into  a  lot  of  different  quali- 
ties, say  (a)  color,  (£)  size,  (c)  shape,  (d)  number  of  legs, 
(<?)  quantity  and  quality  of  hair,  (/)  digestive  organs, 
and  so  on;  and  then  strikes  out  all  the  unlike  qualities 
(such  as  color,  size,  shape,  hair),  retaining  traits  such 
as  quadruped  and  domesticated,  which  they  all  have  in 
general. 

but  an  ac-  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  child  begins  with  whatever 
tive  attitude  significance  he  has  got  out  of  the  one  dog  he  has  seen, 
heard,  and  handled.  He  has  found  that  he  can  carry 
over  from  one  experience  of  this  object  to  subsequent 
experience  certain  expectations  of  certain  characteristic 
modes  of  behavior  —  may  expect  these  even  before 
they  show  themselves.  He  tends  to  assume  this  attitude 
of  anticipation  whenever  any  clue  or  stimulus  presents 
itself;  whenever  the  object  gives  him  any  excuse  for 
it.  Thus  he  might  call  cats  little  dogs,  or  horses 
big  dogs.  But  finding  that  other  expected  traits  and 
modes  of  behavior  are  not  fulfilled,  he  is  forced  to 
throw  out  certain  traits  from  the  dog-meaning,  while 
by  contrast  (see  p.  90)  certain  other  traits  are  selected 
and  emphasized.  As  he  further  applies  the  meaning  to 
other  dogs,  the  dog-meaning  gets  still  further  defined 
and  refined.  He  does  not  begin  with  a  lot  of  ready- 
made  objects  from  which  he  extracts  a  common  mean- 
ing ;  he  tries  to  apply  to  every  new  experience  whatever 
from  his  old  experience  will  help  him  understand  it, 


MEANING  129 

and  as  this  process  of  constant  assumption  and  experi- 
mentation is  fulfilled  and  refuted  by  results,  his  concep- 
tions get  body  and  clearness. 

2.  Similarly,  conceptions  are  general  because  of  their  it  is  general 
use  and  application,  not  because  of  their  ingredients.  of'Jts'appii- 
The  view  of  the  origin  of  conception  in  an  impossible  cation 
sort  of  analysis  has  as  its  counterpart  the  idea  that  the 
conception  is  made  up  out  of  all  the  like  elements  that 
remain  after  dissection  of  a  number  of  individuals.  Not 
so ;  the  moment  a  meaning  is  gained,  it  is  a  working 
tool  of  further  apprehensions,  an  instrument  of  under- 
standing other  things.  Thereby  the  meaning  is  extended 
to  cover  them.  Generality  resides  in  application  to  the 
comprehension  of  new  cases,  not  in  constituent  parts. 
A  collection  of  traits  left  as  the  common  residuum,  the 
caput  mortuum,  of  a  million  objects,  would  be  merely  a 
collection,  an  inventory  or  aggregate,  not  a  general  idea  ; 
a  striking  trait  emphasized  in  any  one  experience  which 
then  served  to  help  understand  some  one  other  experi- 
ence, would  become,  in  virtue  of  that  service  of  applica- 
tion, in  so  far  general.  Synthesis  is  not  a  matter  of 
mechanical  addition,  but  of  application  of  something 
discovered  in  one  case  to  bring  other  cases  into  line. 

§  5.   Definition  and  Organization  of  Meanings 

A  being  that  cannot  understand  at  all  is  at  least  pro-  Definiteness 
tected  from  ^^-understandings.  But  beings  that  get 
knowledge  by  means  of  inferring  and  interpreting,  by 
judging  what  things  signify  in  relation  to  one  another, 
are  constantly  exposed  to  the  danger  of  wzV-apprehension, 
wzV-understanding,  wz>-taking  —  taking  a  thing  amiss. 
A  constant  source  of  misunderstanding  and  mistake 
is  indefiniteness  of  meaning.  Through  vagueness  of 


HOW  WE  THINK 


In  the 
abstract 
meaning  is 
intension 


In  its 

application 
it  is 
extension 


meaning  we  misunderstand  other  people,  things,  and  our- 
selves ;  through  its  ambiguity  we  distort  and  pervert. 
Conscious  distortion  of  meaning  may  be  enjoyed  as 
nonsense ;  erroneous  meanings,  if  clear-cut,  may  be 
followed  up  and  got  rid  of.  But  vague  meanings  are 
too  gelatinous  to  offer  matter  for  analysis,  and  too 
pulpy  to  afford  support  to  other  beliefs.  They  evade  test- 
ing and  responsibility.  Vagueness  disguises  the  uncon- 
scious mixing  together  of  different  meanings,  and  fa- 
cilitates the  substitution  of  one  meaning  for  another,  and 
covers  up  the  failure  to  have  any  precise  meaning  at  all. 
It  is  the  aboriginal  logical  sin  —  the  source  from  which 
flow  most  bad  intellectual  consequences.  Totally  to 
eliminate  indefiniteness  is  impossible ;  to  reduce  it  in  ex- 
tent and  in  force  requires  sincerity  and  vigor.  To  be 
clear  or  perspicuous  a  meaning  must  be  detached,  single, 
self-contained,  homogeneous  as  it  were,  throughout. 
The  technical  name  for  any  meaning  which  is  thus  indi- 
vidualized is  intension.  The  process  of  arriving  at  such 
units  of  meaning  (and  of  stating  them  when  reached)  is 
definition.  The  intension  of  the  terms  man,  river,  seed, 
honesty,  capital,  supreme  court,  is  the  meaning  that 
exclusively  and  characteristically  attaches  to  those  terms. 
This  meaning  is  set  forth  in  the  definitions  of  those 
words.  The  test  of  the  distinctness  of  a  meaning  is 
that  it  shall  successfully  mark  off  a  group  of  things 
that  exemplify  the  meaning  from  other  groups,  especially 
of  those  objects  that  convey  nearly  allied  meanings. 
The  river-meaning  (or  character)  must  serve  to  designate 
the  Rhone,  the  Rhine,  the  Mississippi,  the  Hudson,  the 
Wabash,  in  spite  of  their  varieties  of  place,  length, 
quality  of  water;  and  must  be  such  as  not  to  suggest 
ocean  currents,  ponds,  or  brooks.  This  use  of  a  mean- 


MEANING  131 

ing  to  mark  off  and  group  together  a  variety  of  distinct 
existences  constitutes  its  extension. 

As  definition  sets  forth  intension,  so  division  (or  the  Definition 
reverse  process,  classification)  expounds  extension.  In-  ^ision 
tension  and  extension,  definition  and  division,  are  clearly 
correlative;  in  language  previously  used,  intension  is  mean- 
ing as  a  principle  of  identifying  particulars ;  extension  is 
the  group  of  particulars  identified  and  distinguished. 
Meaning,  as  extension,  would  be  wholly  in  the  air  or  unreal, 
did  it  not  point  to  some  object  or  group  of  objects ;  while 
objects  would  be  as  isolated  and  independent  intellec- 
tually as  they  seem  to  be  spatially,  were  they  not  bound 
into  groups  or  classes  on  the  basis  of  characteristic 
meanings  which  they  constantly  suggest  and  exemplify. 
Taken  together,  definition  and  division  put  us  in  posses- 
sion of  individualized  or  definite  meanings  and  indicate 
to  what  group  of  objects  meanings  refer.  They  typify 
the  fixation  and  the  organization  of  meanings.  In  the 
degree  in  which  the  meanings  of  any  set  of  experiences 
are  so  cleared  up  as  to  serve  as  principles  for  grouping 
those  experiences  in  relation  to  one  another,  that  set  of 
particulars  becomes  a  science  ;  i.e.  definition  and  classi- 
fication are  the  marks  of  a  science,  as  distinct  from  both 
unrelated  heaps  of  miscellaneous  information  and  from 
the  habits  that  introduce  coherence  into  our  experience 
without  our  being  aware  of  their  operation. 

Definitions  are  of  three  types,  denotative,  expository, 
scientific.  Of  these,  the  first  and  third  are  logically 
important,  while  the  expository  type  is  socially  and 
pedagogically  important  as  an  intervening  step. 

i.  Denotative.  A  blind  man  can  never  have  an  We  define 
adequate  understanding  of  the  meaning  of  color  and  red ;  by  PickinS 
a  seeing  person  can  acquire  the  knowledge  only  by  hav- 


132 


HOW   WE  THINK 


and  also  by 

combining 

what  is 

already 

more 

definite, 


ing  certain  things  designated  in  such  a  way  as  to  fix  at 
tention  upon  some  of  their  qualities.  This  method  of 
delimiting  a  meaning  by  calling  out  a  certain  attitude 
toward  objects  may  be  called  denotative  or  indicative. 
It  is  required  for  all  sense  qualities  —  sounds,  tastes, 
colors — and  equally  for  all  emotional  and  moral  qualities. 
The  meanings  of  honesty,  sympatJiy,  hatred,  fear,  must  be 
grasped  by  having  them  presented  in  an  individual's 
first-hand  experience.  The  reaction  of  educational  refor- 
mers against  linguistic  and  bookish  training  has  always 
taken  the  form  of  demanding  recourse  to  personal  ex- 
perience. However  advanced  the  person  is  in  knowledge 
and  in  scientific  training,  understanding  of  a  new  subject, 
or  a  new  aspect  of  an  old  subject,  must  always  be  through 
these  acts  of  experiencing  directly  the  existence  or 
quality  in  question. 

2.  Expository.  Given  a  certain  store  of  meanings 
which  have  been  directly  or  denotatively  marked  out, 
language  becomes  a  resource  by  which  imaginative 
combinations  and  variations  may  be  built  up.  A  color 
may  be  defined  to  one  who  has  not  experienced  it 
as  lying  between  green  and  blue ;  a  tiger  may  be  defined 
(i.e.  the  idea  of  it  made  more  definite)  by  selecting  some 
qualities  from  known  members  of  the  cat  tribe  and  com- 
bining them  with  qualities  of  size  and  weight  derived 
from  other  objects.  Illustrations  are  of  the  nature  of 
expository  definitions ;  so  are  the  accounts  of  meanings 
given  in  a  dictionary.  By  taking  better-known  meanings 
and  associating  them,  —  the  attained  store  of  meanings 
of  the  community  in  which  one  resides  is  put  at  one's 
disposal.  But  in  themselves  these  definitions  are  second- 
hand and  conventional;  there  is  danger  that  instead  of 
inciting  one  to  effort  after  personal  experiences  that 


MEANING  133 

will  exemplify  and  verify  them,  they  will  be  accepted  on 
authority  as  substitutes. 

3.  Scientific.  Even  popular  definitions  serve  as  rules  andbydis- 
for  identifying  and  classifying  individuals,  but  the  pur-  methodgof 
pose  of  such  identifications  and  classifications  is  mainly  production 
practical  and  social,  not  intellectual.  To  conceive  the 
whale  as  a  fish  does  not  interfere  with  the  success 
of  whalers,  nor  does  it  prevent  recognition  of  a  whale 
when  seen,  while  to  conceive  it  not  as  fish  but  as 
mammal  serves  the  practical  end  equally  well,  and  also 
furnishes  a  much  more  valuable  principle  for  scientific 
identification  and  classification.  Popular  definitions  se- 
lect certain  fairly  obvious  traits  as  keys  to  classification. 
Scientific  definitions  select  conditions  of  causation,  pro- 
duction, and  generation  as  their  characteristic  material. 
The  traits  used  by  the  popular  definition  do  not  help 
us  to  understand  why  an  object  has  its  common  mean- 
ings and  qualities ;  they  simply  state  the  fact  that  it 
does  have  them.  Causal  and  genetic  definitions  fix 
upon  the  way  an  object  is  constructed  as  the  key  to 
its  being  a  certain  kind  of  object,  and  thereby  explain 
why  it  has  its  class  or  common  traits. 

If,  for  example,  a  layman  of  considerable  practical  Contrast  of 
experience  were  asked  what  he  meant  or  understood  by  Descriptive 
metal,  he  would  probably  reply  in  terms  of  the  qualities  definitions 
useful  (/)  in  recognizing  any  given  metal  and  (zY)  in  the 
arts.     Smoothness,  hardness,  glossiness,  and  brilliancy, 
heavy  weight  for  its  size,  would  probably  be  included 
in  his  definition,  because  such  traits  enable  us  to  identify 
specific  things  when  we  see  and  touch  them ;  the  ser- 
viceable properties  of  capacity  for  being  hammered  and 
pulled  without  breaking,  of  being  softened  by  heat  and 
hardened  by  cold,  of   retaining   the  shape  and   form 


134  HOW  WE   THINK 

given,  of  resistance  to  pressure  and  decay,  would  prob- 
ably be  included  —  whether  or  not  such  terms  as  mal- 
leable or  fusible  were  used.  Now  a  scientific  concep- 
tion, instead  of  using,  even  with  additions,  traits  of  this 
kind,  determines  meaning  on  a  different  basis.  The 
present  definition  of  metal  is  about  like  this :  Metal 
means  any  chemical  element  that  enters  into  combina- 
tion with  oxygen  so  as  to  form  a  base,  i.e.  a  compound 
that  combines  with  an  acid  to  form  a  salt.  This  sci- 
entific definition  is  founded,  not  on  directly  perceived 
qualities  nor  on  directly  useful  properties,  but  on  the 
way  in  which  certain  things  are  causally  related  to  othef 
Science  is  things  ;  i.e.  it  denotes  a  relation.  As  chemical  concepts 

the  most       become  more  and  more  those  of  relationships  of  inter- 
perfect  type         ...  . 
of  knowl-      action  in  constituting  other  substances,  so  physical  con- 
edge  be-        cepts  express   more  and  more  relations  of  operation  : 

cause  it  c  J 

uses  causal  mathematical,  as  expressing  functions  of  dependence 
definitions  an(j  or(jer  of  grouping ;  biological,  relations  of  differ- 
entiation of  descent,  effected  through  adjustment  of 
various  environments ;  and  so  on  through  the  sphere  of 
the  sciences.  In  short,  our  conceptions  attain  a  maxi- 
mum of  definite  individuality  and  of  generality  (or  appli- 
cability) in  the  degree  to  which  they  show  how  things 
depend  upon  one  another  or  influence  one  another,  in- 
stead of  expressing  the  qualities  that  objects  possess 
statically.  The  ideal  of  a  system  of  scientific  concep- 
tions is  to  attain  continuity,  freedom,  and  flexibility  of 
transition  in  passing  from  any  fact  and  meaning  to  any 
other ;  this  demand  is  met  in  the  degree  in  which  we 
lay  hold  of  the  dynamic  ties  that  hold  things  together 
in  a  continuously  changing  process  —  a  principle '  that 
states  insight  into  mode  of  production  or  growth. 


CHAPTER  TEN 
CONCRETE  AND  ABSTRACT  THINKING 

THE  maxim  enjoined  upon  teachers,  "  to  proceed  from  False 
the  concrete  to  the  abstract,"  is  perhaps  familiar  rather  notion* of 

concrete 

than  comprehended.  Few  who  read  and  hear  it  gain  a  and  abstract 
clear  conception  of  the  starting-point,  the  concrete ;  of 
the  nature  of  the  goal,  the  abstract ;  and  of  the  exact 
nature  of  the  path  to  be  traversed  in  going  from  one  to 
the  other.  At  times  the  injunction  is  positively  misun- 
derstood, being  taken  to  mean  that  education  should 
advance  from  things  to  thought  —  as  if  any  dealing 
with  things  in  which  thinking  is  not  involved  could 
possibly  be  educative.  So  understood,  the  maxim  en- 
courages mechanical  routine  or  sensuous  excitation 
at  one  end  of  the  educational  scale  —  the  lower  — 
and  academic  and  unapplied  learning  at  the  upper 
end. 

Actually,  all  dealing  with  things,  even  the  child's, 
is  immersed  in  inferences;  things  are  clothed  by  the 
suggestions  they  arouse,  and  are  significant  as  chal- 
lenges to  interpretation  or  as  evidences  to  substantiate 
a  belief.  Nothing  could  be  more  unnatural  than  in- 
struction in  things  without  thought;  in  sense-percep- 
tions without  judgments  based  upon  them.  And  if  the 
abstract  to  which  we  are  to  proceed  denotes  thought 
apart  from  things,  the  goal  recommended  is  formal  and 


136 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Direct  and 
indirect  un- 
derstanding 
again 


What  is 
familiar  is 
mentally 
concrete 


Practical 
things  are 
familiar 


empty,  for  effective  thought  always  refers,  more  or  less 
directly,  to  things. 

Yet  the  maxim  has  a  meaning  which,  understood  and 
supplemented,  states  the  line  of  development  of  logical 
capacity.  What  is  this  signification  ?  Concrete  denotes 
a  meaning  definitely  marked  off  from  other  meanings  so 
that  it  is  readily  apprehended  by  itself.  When  we  hear 
the  words,  table,  chair,  stove,  coat,  we  do  not  have  to 
reflect  in  order  to  grasp  what  is  meant.  The  terms 
convey  meaning  so  directly  that  no  effort  at  translating 
is  needed.  The  meanings  of  some  terms  and  things, 
however,  are  grasped  only  by  first  calling  to  mind  more 
familiar  things  and  then  tracing  out  connections  be- 
tween them  and  what  we  do  not  understand.  Roughly 
speaking,  the  former  kind  of  meanings  is  concrete ;  the 
latter  abstract. 

To  one  who  is  thoroughly  at  home  in  physics  and 
chemistry,  the  notions  of  atom  and  molecule  are  fairly 
concrete.  They  are  constantly  used  without  involving 
any  labor  of  thought  in  apprehending  what  they  mean. 
But  the  layman  and  the  beginner  in  science  have  first  to 
remind  themselves  of  things  with  which  they  already 
are  well  acquainted,  and  go  through  a  process  of  slow 
translation ;  the  terms  atom  and  molecule  losing,  more- 
over, their  hard-won  meaning  only  too  easily  if  familiar 
things,  and  the  line  of  transition  from  them  to  the 
strange,  drop  out  of  mind.  The  same  difference  is 
illustrated  by  any  technical  terms :  coefficient  and  exponent 
in  algebra,  triangle  and  square  in  their  geometric  as 
distinct  from  their  popular  meanings  ;  capital  and  value 
as  used  in  political  economy,  and  so  on. 

The  difference  as  noted  is  purely  relative  to  the 
intellectual  progress  of  an  individual ;  what  is  abstract 


CONCRETE   AND   ABSTRACT   THINKING         137 

at  one  period  of  growth  is  concrete  at  another ;  or  even 
the  contrary,  as  one  finds  that  things  supposed  to  be 
thoroughly  familiar  involve  strange  factors  and  unsolved 
problems.  There  is,  nevertheless,  a  general  line  of 
cleavage  which,  deciding  upon  the  whole  what  things 
fall  within  the  limits  of  familiar  acquaintance  and  what 
without,  marks  off  the  concrete  and  the  abstract  in  a 
more  permanent  way.  These  limits  are  fixed  mainly  by 
the  demands  of  practical  life.  Things  such  as  sticks 
and  stones,  meat  and  potatoes,  houses  and  trees,  are 
such  constant  features  of  the  environment  of  which  we 
have  to  take  account  in  order  to  live,  that  their  im- 
portant meanings  are  soon  learnt,  and  indissolubly 
associated  with  objects.  We  are  acquainted  with  a 
thing  (or  it  is  familiar  to  us)  when  we  have  so  much  to 
do  with  it  that  its  strange  and  unexpected  corners  are 
rubbed  off.  The  necessities  of  social  intercourse  con- 
vey to  adults  a  like  concreteness  upon  such  terms  as 
taxes,  elections,  wages,  the  law,  and  so  on.  Things  the 
meaning  of  which  I  personally  do  not  take  in  directly, 
appliances  of  cook,  carpenter,  or  weaver,  for  example, 
are  nevertheless  unhesitatingly  classed  as  concrete, 
since  they  are  so  directly  connected  with  our  common 
social  life. 

By  contrast,  the   abstract  is  the   theoretical,  or  that  Thetheo- 
not  intimately  associated  with  practical  concerns.     The  r?^J1'  ?[_ 
abstract  thinker  (the  man  of  pure  science  as  he  is  some-  teliectual, 
times  called)  deliberately  abstracts  from  application  in  isabstract 
life ;  that  is,  he   leaves  practical   uses  out  of  account. 
This,  however,  is  a  merely  negative  statement.     What 
remains  when  connections  with  use  and  application  are 
excluded  ?     Evidently  only  what  has  to  do  with  knowing 
considered  as  an  end  in  itself.     Many  notions  of  science 


138 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Contempt 
for  theory 


But  theory 
is  highly 
practical 


are  abstract,  not  only  because  they  cannot  be  understood 
without  a  long  apprenticeship  in  the  science  (which  is 
equally  true  of  technical  matters  in  the  arts),  but  also 
because  the  whole  content  of  their  meaning  has  been 
framed  for  the  sole  purpose  of  facilitating  further  knowl- 
edge, inquiry,  and  speculation.  When  thinking  is  used 
as  a  means  to  some  end,  good,  or  value  beyond  itself,  it  is 
concrete ;  when  it  is  employed  simply  as  a  means  to 
more  thinking,  it  is  abstract.  To  a  theorist  an  idea  is 
adequate  and  self-contained  just  because  it  engages  and 
rewards  thought ;  to  a  medical  practitioner,  an  engineer, 
an  artist,  a  merchant,  a  politician,  it  is  complete  only 
when  employed  in  the  furthering  of  some  interest  in 
life  —  health,  wealth,  beauty,  goodness,  success,  or  what 
you  will. 

For  the  great  majority  of  men  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, the  practical  exigencies  of  life  are  almost, 
if  not  quite,  coercive.  Their  main  business  is  the 
proper  conduct  of  their  affairs.  Whatever  is  of  signifi- 
cance only  as  affording  scope  for  thinking  is  pallid  and 
remote  —  almost  artificial.  Hence  the  contempt  felt  by 
the  practical  and  successful  executive  for  the  "  mere 
theorist " ;  hence  his  conviction  that  certain  things  may 
be  all  very  well  in  theory,  but  that  they  will  not  do  in 
practice;  in  general,  the  depreciatory  way  in  which  he 
uses  the  terms  abstract,  theoretical,  and  intellectual  — 
as  distinct  from  intelligent. 

This  attitude  is  justified,  of  course,  under  certain  con- 
ditions. But  depreciation  of  theory  does  not  contain 
the  whole  truth,  as  common  or  practical  sense  recog- 
nizes. There  is  such  a  thing,  even  from  the  common- 
sense  standpoint,  as  being  "too  practical,"  as  being  so 
intent  upon  the  immediately  practical  as  not  to  see 


CONCRETE   AND   ABSTRACT   THINKING         139 

beyond  the  end  of  one's  nose  or  as  to  cut  off  the  limb 
upon  which  one  is  sitting.  The  question  is  one  of 
limits,  of  degrees  and  adjustments,  rather  than  one  of 
absolute  separation.  Truly  practical  men  give  their 
minds  free  play  about  a  subject  without  asking  too 
closely  at  every  point  for  the  advantage  to  be  gained  ; 
exclusive  preoccupation  with  matters  of  use  and  appli- 
cation so  narrows  the  horizon  as  in  the  long  run  to  de- 
feat itself.  It  does  not  pay  to  tether  one's  thoughts  to 
the  post  of  use  with  too  short  a  rope.  Power  in  action 
requires  some  largeness  and  imaginativeness  of  vision. 
Men  must  at  least  have  enough  interest  in  thinking  for 
the  sake  of  thinking  to  escape  the  limits  of  routine  and 
custom.  Interest  in  knowledge  for  the  sake  of  knowl- 
edge, in  thinking  for  the  sake  of  the  free  play  of  thought, 
is  necessary  then  to  the  emancipation  of  practical  life  — 
to  make  it  rich  and  progressive. 

We  may  now  recur  to  the  pedagogic  maxim  of  going 
from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract. 

i.    Since   the  concrete  denotes   thinking    applied    to  Begin  with 
activities  for  the   sake   of  dealing  effectively  with  the  theconcre.te 

*  means  begin 

difficulties  that  present  themselves  practically,  "  begin-  with  practi- 
ning  with  the  concrete  "  signifies  that  we  should  at  the 
outset  make  much  of  doing ;  especially,  make  much  in 
occupations  that  are  not  of  a  routine  and  mechanical 
kind  and  hence  require  intelligent  selection  and  adapta- 
tion of  means  and  materials.  We  do  not  "  follow  the 
order  of  nature  "  when  we  multiply  mere  sensations  or 
accumulate  physical  objects.  Instruction  in  number  is 
not  concrete  merely  because  splints  or  beans  or  dots  are 
employed,  while  whenever  the  use  and  bearing  of  number 
relations  are  clearly  perceived,  the  number  idea  is  con- 
crete even  if  figures  alone  are  used.  Just  what  sort  of 


140  HOW  WE  THINK 

symbol  it  is  best  to  use  at  a  given  time  —  whether  blocks, 
or  lines,  or  figures  —  is  entirely  a  matter  of  adjustment 
to  the  given  case.  If  physical  things  used  in  teaching 
number  or  geography  or  anything  else  do  not  leave  the 
mind  illuminated  with  recognition  of  a  meaning  beyond 
themselves,  the  instruction  that  uses  them  is  as  abstract 
as  that  which  doles  out  ready-made  definitions  and  rules ; 
for  it  distracts  attention  from  ideas  to  mere  physical 
excitations. 

Confusion  The  conception  that  we  have  only  to  put  before  the 
creteVith"  senses  particular  physical  objects  in  order  to  impress 
the  sensibly  certain  ideas  upon  the  mind  amounts  almost  to  a  super- 
stition. The  introduction  of  object  lessons  and  sense- 
training  scored  a  distinct  advance  over  the  prior  method 
of  linguistic  symbols,  and  this  advance  tended  to  blind 
educators  to  the  fact  that  only  a  halfway  step  had  been 
taken.  Things  and  sensations  develop  the  child,  indeed, 
but  only  because  he  uses  them  in  mastering  his  body  and 
in  the  scheme  of  his  activities.  Appropriate  contin- 
uous occupations  or  activities  involve  the  use  of  natural 
materials,  tools,  modes  of  energy,  and  do  it  in  a  way 
that  compels  thinking  as  to  what  they  mean,  how  they 
are  related  to  one  another  and  to  the  realization  of  ends  ; 
while  the  mere  isolated  presentation  of  things  remains 
barren  and  dead.  A  few  generations  ago  the  great  ob- 
stacle in  the  way  of  reform  of  primary  education  was 
belief  in  the  almost  magical  efficacy  of  the  symbols  of  lan- 
guage (including  number)  to  produce  mental  training ; 
at  present,  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  objects  just  as  objects, 
blocks  the  way.  As  frequently  happens,  the  better  is 
an  enemy  of  the  best. 

Transfer  of        2.    The  interest  in  results,  in  the  successful  carrying  on 
iterest  to     Q£  an  ^fofay^  should  be  gradually  transferred  to  study 


CONCRETE  AND   ABSTRACT   THINKING         141 

of  objects  —  their  properties,  consequences,  structures,  intellectual 
causes,  and  effects.  The  adult  when  at  work  in  his  life  E 
calling  is  rarely  free  to  devote  time  or  energy  —  beyond 
the  necessities  of  his  immediate  action  —  to  the  study  of 
what  he  deals  with.  (Ante,  p.  43.)  The  educative  activ- 
ities of  childhood  should  be  so  arranged  that  direct 
interest  in  the  activity  and  its  outcome  create  a  demand 
for  attention  to  matters  that  have  a  more  and  more  in- 
direct and  remote  connection  with  the  original  activity. 
The  direct  interest  in  carpentering  or  shop  work  should 
yield  organically  and  gradually  an  interest  in  geometric 
and  mechanical  problems.  The  interest  in  cooking 
should  grow  into  an  interest  in  chemical  experimentation 
and  in  the  physiology  and  hygiene  of  bodily  growth." 
The  making  of  pictures  should  pass  to  an  interest  in  the 
technique  of  representation  and  the  aesthetics  of  appreci- 
ation, and  so  on.  This  development  is  what  the  term 
go  signifies  in  the  maxim  "go  from  the  concrete  to  the 
abstract " ;  it  represents  the  dynamic  and  truly  educative 
factor  of  the  process. 

3.    The  outcome,  the  abstract  to  which  education  is  to  Deveiop- 
proceed,  is  an  interest  in  intellectual  matters  for  their  ^!"\.°f . 

delight  in 

own  sake,  a  delight  in  thinking  for  the  sake  of  thinking,  the  activity 
It  is  an  old  story  that  acts  and  processes  which  at  the  c 
outset  are  incidental  to  something  else  develop  and 
maintain  an  absorbing  value  of  their  own.  So  it  is  with 
thinking  and  with  knowledge ;  at  first  incidental  to  re- 
sults and  adjustments  beyond  themselves,  they  attract 
more  and  more  attention  to  themselves  till  they  become 
ends,  not  means.  Children  engage,  unconstrainedly 
and  continually,  in  reflective  inspection  and  testing  for 
the  sake  of  what  they  are  interested  in  doing  successfully. 
Habits  of  thinking  thus  generated  may  increase  in  volume 


142 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Examples 
of  the 
transition 


Theoretical 
knowledge 
never  the 
whole  end 


and  extent  till  they  become  of  importance  on  their  own 
account. 

The  three  instances  cited  in  Chapter  Six  represented 
an  ascending  cycle  from  the  practical  to  the  theoretical. 
Taking  thought  to  keep  a  personal  engagement  is  ob- 
viously of  the  concrete  kind.  Endeavoring  to  work  out 
the  meaning  of  a  certain  part  of  a  boat  is  an  instance  of 
an  intermediate  kind.  The  reason  for  the  existence  and 
position  of  the  pole  is  a  practical  reason,  so  that  to  the 
architect  the  problem  was  purely  concrete  —  the  main- 
tenance of  a  certain  system  of  action.  But  for  the  pas- 
senger on  the  boat,  the  problem  was  theoretical,  more 
or  less  speculative.  It  made  no  difference  to  his  reach- 
ing his  destination  whether  he  worked  out  the  meaning 
of  the  pole.  The  third  case,  that  of  the  appearance  and 
movement  of  the  bubbles,  illustrates  a  strictly  theoreti- 
cal or  abstract  case.  No  overcoming  of  physical  ob- 
stacles, no  adjustment  of  external  means  to  ends,  is  at 
stake.  Curiosity,  intellectual  curiosity,  is  challenged  by 
a  seemingly  anomalous  occurrence ;  and  thinking  tries 
simply  to  account  for  an  apparent  exception  in  terms  of 
recognized  principles. 

(i)  Abstract  thinking,  it  should  be  noted,  represents 
an  end,  not  the  end.  The  power  of  sustained  thinking 
on  matters  remote  from  direct  use  is  an  outgrowth  of 
practical  and  immediate  modes  of  thought,  but  not  a 
substitute  for  them.  The  educational  end  is  not  the  de- 
struction of  power  to  think  so  as  to  surmount  obstacles 
and  adjust  means  and  ends ;  it  is  not  its  replacement  by 
abstract  reflection.  Nor  is  theoretical  thinking  a  higher 
type  of  thinking  than  practical.  A  person  who  has  at 
command  both  types  of  thinking  is  of  a  higher  order 
than  he  who  possesses  only  one.  Methods  that  in  de- 


CONCRETE  AND   ABSTRACT   THINKING         143 

veloping  abstract  intellectual  abilities  weaken  habits  of 
practical  or  concrete  thinking,  fall  as  much  short  of  the 
educational  ideal  as  do  the  methods  that  in  cultivating 
ability  to  plan,  to  invent,  to  arrange,  to  forecast,  fail  to 
secure  some  delight  in  thinking  irrespective  of  practical 
consequences. 

(zY)   Educators  should  also  note  the  very  great  indi-  Nor  that 


vidual  differences  that  exist  ;  they  should  not  try  to  force  ^lafto  the   ' 


one  pattern  and  model  upon  all.  In  many  (probably  majority 
the  majority)  the  executive  tendency,  the  habit  of  mind  °  pup 
that  thinks  for  purposes  of  conduct  and  achievement, 
not  for  the  sake  of  knowing,  remains  dominant  to  the 
end.  Engineers,  lawyers,  doctors,  merchants,  are  much 
more  numerous  in  adult  life  than  scholars,  scientists, 
and  philosophers.  While  education  should  strive  to 
make  men  who,  however  prominent  their  professional 
interests  and  aims,  partake  of  the  spirit  of  the  scholar, 
philosopher,  and  scientist,  no  good  reason  appears  why 
education  should  esteem  the  one  mental  habit  inhe- 
rently superior  to  the  other,  and  deliberately  try  to 
transform  the  type  from  practical  to  theoretical.  Have 
not  our  schools  (as  already  suggested,  p.  49)  been  one- 
sidedly  devoted  to  the  more  abstract  type  of  thinking, 
thus  doing  injustice  to  the  majority  of  pupils?  Has  not 
the  idea  of  a  "  liberal  "  and  "  humane  "  education  tended 
too  often  in  practice  to  the  production  of  technical,  be- 
cause overspecialized,  thinkers  ? 

The  aim  of  education  should  be  to  secure  a  balanced  Aim  of 
interaction  of  the  two  types  of  mental  attitude,  having  ^working13 
sufficient  regard  to  the  disposition  of  the  individual  not  balance 
to  hamper  and  cripple  whatever  powers  are  naturally 
strong  in  him.     The  narrowness  of  individuals  of  strong 
concrete  bent  needs  to  be  liberalized.      Every  oppor- 


144  HOW  WE  THINK 

tunity  that  occurs  within  their  practical  activities  for 
developing  curiosity  and  susceptibility  to  intellectual 
problems  should  be  seized.  Violence  is  not  done  to 
natural  disposition,  but  the  latter  is  broadened.  As  re- 
gards the  smaller  number  of  those  who  have  a  taste 
for  abstract,  purely  intellectual  topics,  pains  should  be 
taken  to  multiply  opportunities  and  demands  for  the 
application  of  ideas  ;  for  translating  symbolic  truths  into 
terms  of  social  life  and  its  ends.  Every  human  being 
has  both  capabilities,  and  every  individual  will  be  more 
effective  and  happier  if  both  powers  are  developed  in 
easy  and  close  interaction  with  each  other. 


CHAPTER   ELEVEN 
EMPIRICAL  AND  SCIENTIFIC  THINKING 

§  i.    Empirical  Thinking 

Apart  from  the  development  of  scientific  method,  Empirical 
inferences  depend  upon  habits  that  have  been  built  up  ^in^g 
under  the  influence  of  a  number  of  particular  experi-  past  habits 
ences  not  themselves  arranged  for  logical  purposes. 
A  says,  "  It  will  probably  rain  to-morrow."  B  asks, 
"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  "  and  A  replies,  "  Because  the 
sky  was  lowering  at  sunset."  When  B  asks,  "What  has 
that  to  do  with  it  ? "  A  responds,  "  I  do  not  know,  but 
it  generally  does  rain  after  such  a  sunset."  He  does  not 
perceive  any  connection  between  the  appearance  of  the 
sky  and  coming  rain ;  he  is  not  aware  of  any  continuity 
in  the  facts  themselves  —  any  law  or  principle,  as  we 
usually  say.  He  simply,  from  frequently  recurring  con- 
junctions of  the  events,  has  associated  them  so  that 
when  he  sees  one  he  thinks  of  the  other.  One  suggests 
the  other,  or  is  associated  with  it.  A  man  may  believe 
it  will  rain  to-morrow  because  he  has  consulted  the  ba- 
rometer ;  but  if  he  has  no  conception  how  the  height  of 
the  mercury  column  (or  the  position  of  an  index  moved 
by  its  rise  and  fall)  is  connected  with  variations  of  at- 
mospheric pressure,  and  how  these  in  turn  are  connected 
with  the  amount  of  moisture  in  the  air,  his  belief  in  the 
likelihood  of  rain  is  purely  empirical.  When  men  lived 
in  the  open  and  got  their  living  by  hunting,  fishing,  or 


146  HOW  WE   THINK 

pasturing  flocks,  the  detection  of  the  signs  and  indica- 
tions of  weather  changes  was  a  matter  of  great  impor- 
tance. A  body  of  proverbs  and  maxims,  forming  an 
extensive  section  of  traditionary  folklore,  was  developed. 
But  as  long  as  there  was  no  understanding  why  or  how 
certain  events  were  signs,  as  long  as  foresight  and 
weather  shrewdness  rested  simply  upon  repeated  con- 
junction among  facts,  beliefs  about  the  weather  were 
thoroughly  empirical. 

It  is  fairly  In  similar  fashion  learned  men  in  the  Orient  learned 
adequate  in  to  pre(jict,  with  considerable  accuracy,  the  recurrent 
matters.  positions  of  the  planets,  the  sun  and  the  moon,  and  to 
foretell  the  time  of  eclipses,  without  understanding  in 
any  degree  the  laws  of  the  movements  of  heavenly 
bodies  —  that  is,  without  having  a  notion  of  the  con- 
tinuities existing  among  the  facts  themselves.  They 
had  learned  from  repeated  observations  that  things  hap- 
pened in  about  such  and  such  a  fashion.  Till  a  compara- 
tively recent  time,  the  truths  of  medicine  were  mainly  in 
the  same  condition.  Experience  had  shown  that  "  upon 
the  whole,"  "as  a  rule,"  "generally  or  usually  speak- 
ing," certain  results  followed  certain  remedies,  when 
symptoms  were  given.  Our  beliefs  about  human  na- 
ture in  individuals  (psychology)  and  in  masses  (sociol- 
ogy) are  still  very  largely  of  a  purely  empirical  sort. 
Even  the  science  of  geometry,  now  frequently  reckoned 
?  a  typical  rational  science,  began,  among  the  Egyptians, 

as  an  accumulation  of  recorded  observations  about 
methods  of  approximate  mensuration  of  land  surfaces; 
and  only  gradually  assumed,  among  the  Greeks,  scien- 
tific form. 

The  disadvantages  of  purely  empirical  thinking  are 
obvious. 


EMPIRICAL  AND   SCIENTIFIC   THINKING        147 

1.  While   many  empirical  conclusions   are,   roughly  but  is  very 
speaking,  correct ;  while  they  are  exact  enough  to  be  of  faisebeilefs 
great  help   in  practical   life ;  while   the   presages  of  a 
weatherwise   sailor   or   hunter   may  be  more  accurate, 

within  a  certain  restricted  range,  than  those  of  a  scien- 
tist who  relies  wholly  upon  scientific  observations  and 
tests ;  while,  indeed,  empirical  observations  and  records 
furnish  the  raw  or  crude  material  of  scientific  knowl- 
edge, yet  the  empirical  method  affords  no  way  of 
discriminating  between  right  and  wrong  conclusions. 
Hence  it  is  responsible  for  a  multitude  of  false  beliefs. 
The  technical  designation  for  one  of  the  commonest 
fallacies  is  post  hoc,  ergo  propter  hoc ;  the  belief  that  be- 
cause one  thing  comes  after  another,  it  comes  because 
of  the  other.  Now  this  fallacy  of  method  is  the  animat- 
ing principle  of  empirical  conclusions,  even  when  correct 
—  the  correctness  being  almost  as  much  a  matter  of 
good  luck  as  of  method.  That  potatoes  should  be 
planted  only  during  the  crescent  moon,  that  near  the  sea 
people  are  born  at  high  tide  and  die  at  low  tide,  that  a 
comet  is  an  omen  of  danger,  that  bad  luck  follows  the 
cracking  of  a  mirror,  that  a  patent  medicine  cures  a 
disease  —  these  and  a  thousand  like  notions  are  as- 
severated on  the  basis  of  empirical  coincidence  and 
conjunction.  Moreover,  habits  of  expectation  and  be- 
lief are  formed  otherwise  than  by  a  number  of  repeated 
similar  cases. 

2.  The  more  numerous  the  experienced  instances  and  and  does 
the  closer  the  watch   kept   upon  them,  the  greater  is  not  enable 

us  to  cope 

the  trustworthiness  of  constant  conjunction  as  evidence  with  the 
of  connection  among  the  things  themselves.     Many  of  novel» 
our  most  important  beliefs  still  have  only  this  sort  of 
warrant.     No  one  can  yet  tell,  with  certainty,  the  neces- 


148  HOW   WE  THINK 

sary  cause  of  old  age  or  of  death  —  which  are  empirically 
the  most  certain  of  all  expectations.  But  even  the  most 
reliable  beliefs  of  this  type  fail  when  they  confront  the 
novel.  Since  they  rest  upon  past  uniformities,  they  are 
useless  when  further  experience  departs  in  any  consider- 
able measure  from  ancient  incident  and  wonted  prece- 
dent. Empirical  inference  follows  the  grooves  and  ruts 
that  custom  wears,  and  has  no  track  to  follow  when  the 
groove  disappears.  So  important  is  this  aspect  of  the 
matter  that  Clifford  found  the  difference  between  ordi- 
nary skill  and  scientific  thought  right  here.  "  Skill 
enables  a  man  to  deal  with  the  same  circumstances  that 
he  has  met  before,  scientific  thought  enables  him  to  deal 
with  different  circumstances  that  he  has  never  met 
before."  And  he  goes  so  far  as  to  define  scientific 
thinking  as  "  the  application  of  old  experience  to  new 
circumstances." 

and  leads  to        3.   We  have  not  yet  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  most 
laziness  and  harmfui  feature  of  the  empirical  method.     Mental  in- 

presumption, 

ertia,  laziness,  unjustifiable  conservatism,  are  its  probable 
accompaniments.  Its  general  effect  upon  mental  attitude 
is  more  serious  than  even  the  specific  wrong  conclusions 
in  which  it  has  landed.  Wherever  the  chief  dependence 
in  forming  inferences  is  upon  the  conjunctions  observed 
in  past  experience,  failures  to  agree  with  the  usual  order 
are  slurred  over,  cases  of  successful  confirmation  are 
exaggerated.  Since  the  mind  naturally  demands  some 
principle  of  continuity,  some  connecting  link  between 
separate  facts  and  causes,  forces  are  arbitrarily  invented 
for  that  purpose.  Fantastic  and  mythological  explana- 
tions are  resorted  to  in  order  to  supply  missing  links. 
The  pump  brings  water  because  nature  abhors  a 
vacuum ;  opium  makes  men  sleep  because  it  has  a  dormi- 


149 

tive  potency ;  we  recollect  a  past  event  because  we  have 
a  faculty  of  memory.  In  the  history  of  the  progress  of 
human  knowledge,  out  and  out  myths  accompany  the 
first  stage  of  empiricism ;  while  "  hidden  essences  "  and 
"  occult  forces  "  mark  its  second  stage.  By  their  very  • 
nature,  these  "  causes  "  escape  observation,  so  that  their 
explanatory  value  can  be  neither  confirmed  nor  refuted 
by  further  observation  or  experience.  Hence  belief  in 
them  becomes  purely  traditionary.  They  give  rise  to 
doctrines  which,  inculcated  and  handed  down,  become 
dogmas ;  subsequent  inquiry  and  reflection  are  actually 
stifled.  {Ante,  p.  23.) 

Certain  men  or  classes  of  men  come  to  be  the  accepted  and  to 
guardians  and  transmitters  — instructors —  of  established  ogm£ 
doctrines.  To  question  the  beliefs  is  to  question  their 
authority  ;  to  accept  the  beliefs  is  evidence  of  loyalty  to 
the  powers  that  be,  a  proof  of  good  citizenship.  Pas- 
sivity, docility,  acquiescence,  come  to  be  primal  intellec- 
tual virtues.  Facts  and  events  presenting  novelty  and 
variety  are  slighted,  or  are  sheared  down  till  they  fit 
into  the  Procrustean  bed  of  habitual  belief.  Inquiry 
and  doubt  are  silenced  by  citation  of  ancient  laws  or  a 
multitude  of  miscellaneous  and  unsifted  cases.  This 
attitude  of  mind  generates  dislike  of  change,  and  the 
resulting  aversion  to  novelty  is  fatal  to  progress.  What 
will  not  fit  into  the  established  canons  is  outlawed ;  men 
who  make  new  discoveries  are  objects  of  suspicion  and 
even  of  persecution.  Beliefs  that  perhaps  originally 
were  the  products  of  fairly  extensive  and  careful  obser- 
vation are  stereotyped  into  fixed  traditions  and  semi- 
sacred  dogmas  accepted  simply  upon  authority,  and 
are  mixed  with  fantastic  conceptions  that  happen  to 
have  won  the  acceptance  of  authorities. 


ISO 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Scientific 
thinking 
analyzes  the 
present  case 


Illustration 
from  suction 
of  empirical 
method, 


of  scientific 
method 


Relies  on 
differences, 


§  2.    Scientific  Method 

In  contrast  with  the  empirical  method  stands  the 
scientific.  Scientific  method  replaces  the  repeated  con- 
junction or  coincidence  of  separate  facts  by  discovery  of 
a  single  comprehensive  fact,  effecting  this  replacement 
by  breaking  up  the  coarse  or  gross  facts  of  observation  into 
a  number  of  minuter  processes  not  directly  accessible  to 
perception. 

If  a  layman  were  asked  why  water  rises  from  the 
cistern  when  an  ordinary  pump  is  worked,  he  would 
doubtless  answer,  "  By  suction."  Suction  is  regarded 
as  a  force  like  heat  or  pressure.  If  such  a  person  is 
confronted  by  the  fact  that  water  rises  with  a  suction 
pump  only  about  thirty-three  feet,  he  easily  disposes  of 
the  difficulty  on  the  ground  that  all  forces  vary  in  their 
intensities  and  finally  reach  a  limit  at  which  they  cease 
to  operate.  The  variation  with  elevation  above  the 
sea  level  of  the  height  to  which  water  can  be  pumped 
is  either  unnoticed,  or,  if  noted,  is  dismissed  as  one  of 
the  curious  anomalies  in  which  nature  abounds. 

Now  the  scientist  advances  by  assuming  that  what 
seems  to-  observation  to  be  a  single  total  fact  is  in  truth 
complex.  He  attempts,  therefore,  to  break  up  the 
single  fact  of  water-rising-in-the-pipe  into  a  number  of 
lesser  facts.  His  method  of  proceeding  is  by  varying 
conditions  one  by  one  so  far  as  possible,  and  noting  just 
what  happens  when  a  given  condition  is  eliminated. 
There  are  two  methods  for  varying  conditions.1  The 
first  is  an  extension  of  the  empirical  method  of  observa- 
tion. It  consists  in  comparing  very  carefully  the  results 
of  a  great  number  of  observations  which  have  occurred 

1  The  next  two  paragraphs  repeat,  for  purposes  of  the  present  discussion, 
what  we  have  already  noted  in  a  different  context.  See  p.  88  and  p.  99. 


EMPIRICAL  AND   SCIENTIFIC  THINKING        151 

under  accidentally  different  conditions.  The  difference 
in  the  rise  of  the  water  at  different  heights  above  the 
sea  level,  and  its  total  cessation  when  the  distance  to  be 
lifted  is,  even  at  sea  level,  more  than  thirty-three  feet, 
are  emphasized,  instead  of  being  slurred  over.  The 
purpose  is  to  find  out  what  special  conditions  are  present 
when  the  effect  occurs  and  absent  when  it  fails  to 
occur.  These  special  conditions  are  then  substituted 
for  the  gross  fact,  or  regarded  as  its  principle  —  the 
key  to  understanding  it. 

The  method  of  analysis  by  comparing  cases  is,  how-  and  creates 
ever,  badly  handicapped ;  it  can  do  nothing  until  it  is  d 
presented  with  a  certain  number  of  diversified  cases. 
And  even  when  different  cases  are  at  hand,  it  will  be 
questionable  whether  they  vary  in  just  these  respects  in 
which  it  is  important  that  they  should  vary  in  order  to 
throw  light  upon  the  question  at  issue.  The  method  is 
passive  and  dependent  upon  external  accidents.  Hence 
the  superiority  of  the  active  or  experimental  method. 
Even  a  small  number  of  observations  may  suggest  an 
explanation  —  a  hypothesis  or  theory.  Working  upon 
this  suggestion,  the  scientist  may  then  intentionally 
vary  conditions  and  note  what  happens.  If  the  empir- 
ical observations  have  suggested  to  him  the  possibility 
of  a  connection  between  air  pressure  on  the  water  and 
the  rising  of  the  water  in  the  tube  where  air  pressure  is 
absent,  he  deliberately  empties  the  air  out  of  the  vessel 
in  which  the  water  is  contained  and  notes  that  suction 
no  longer  works  ;  or  he  intentionally  increases  atmos- 
pheric pressure  on  the  water  and  notes  the  result.  He 
institutes  experiments  to  calculate  the  weight  of  air  at 
the  sea  level  and  at  various  levels  above,  and  compares 
the  results  of  reasoning  based  upon  the  pressure  of  air 


152 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Analysis 
and  synthe- 
sis again 


of  these  various  weights  upon  a  certain  volume  of  water 
with  the  results  actually  obtained  by  observation.  Ob- 
servations formed  by  variation  of  conditions  on  the  basis 
of  some  idea  or  theory  constitute  experiment.  Experiment 
is  the  chief  resource  in  scientific  reasoning  because  it 
facilitates  the  picking  out  of  significant  elements  in  a 
gross,  vague  whole. 

Experimental  thinking,  or  scientific  reasoning,  is  thus 
a  conjoint  process  of  analysis  and  synthesis,  or,  in  less 
technical  language,  of  discrimination  and  assimilation 
or  identification.  The  gross  fact  of  water  rising  when 
the  suction  valve  is  worked  is  resolved  or  discriminated 
into  a  number  of  independent  variables,  some  of  which 
had  never  before  been  observed  or  even  thought  of  in 
connection  with  the  fact.  One  of  these  facts,  the 
weight  of  the  atmosphere,  is  then  selectively  seized  upon 
as  the  key  to  the  entire  phenomenon.  This  disentan- 
gling constitutes  analysis.  But  atmosphere  and  its  pres- 
sure or  weight  is  a  fact  not  confined  to  this  single 
instance.  It  is  a  fact  familiar  or  at  least  discoverable 
as  operative  in  a  great  number  of  other  events.  In  fixing 
upon  this  imperceptible  and  minute  fact  as  the  essence 
or  key  to  the  elevation  of  water  by  the  pump,  the  pump- 
fact  has  thus  been  assimilated  to  a  whole  group  of  ordi- 
nary facts  from  which  it  was  previously  isolated.  This 
assimilation  constitutes  synthesis.  Moreover,  the  fact 
of  atmospheric  pressure  is  itself  a  case  of  one  of  the 
commonest  of  all  facts  —  weight  or  gravitational  force. 
Conclusions  that  apply  to  the  common  fact  of  weight 
are  thus  transferable  to  the  consideration  and  inter- 
pretation of  the  relatively  rare  and  exceptional  case  of 
the  suction  of  water.  The  suction  pump  is  seen  to  be 
a  case  of  the  same  kind  or  sort  as  the  siphon,  the 


EMPIRICAL  AND   SCIENTIFIC  THINKING        153 

barometer,  the  rising  of  the  balloon,  and  a  multitude  of 
other  things  with  which  at  first  sight  it  has  no  connec- 
tion at  all.  This  is  another  instance  of  the  synthetic  or 
assimilative  phase  of  scientific  thinking. 

If  we  revert  to  the  advantages  of  scientific  over  em' 
pirical  thinking,  we  find  that  we  now  have  the  clue  to 
them. 

(a)  The  increased  security,  the  added  factor  of  cer-  Lessened 

tainty  or  proof,  is  due  to  the  substitution  of  the  detailed  [Ability 
J  to  error 

and  specific  fact  of  atmospheric  pressure  for  the  gross 

and  total  and  relatively  miscellaneous  fact  of  suction. 
The  latter  is  complex,  and  its  complexity  is  due  to  many 
unknown  and  unspecified  factors ;  hence,  any  state- 
ment about  it  is  more  or  less  random,  and  likely  to  be 
defeated  by  any  unforeseen  variation  of  circumstances. 
Comparatively,  at  least,  the  minute  and  detailed  fact  of 
air  pressure  is  a  measurable  and  definite  fact  —  one 
that  can  be  picked  out  and  managed  with  assurance. 

(b)  As  analysis  accounts  for  the  added  certainty,  so  Abmtyto 
synthesis  accounts  for  ability  to  cope  with  the  novel 

and  variable.  Weight  is  a  much  commoner  fact  than 
atmospheric  weight,  and  this  in  turn  is  a  much  com- 
moner fact  than  the  workings  of  the  suction  pump. 
To  be  able  to  substitute  the  common  and  frequent  fact 
for  that  which  is  relatively  rare  and  peculiar  is  to  reduce 
the  seemingly  novel  and  exceptional  to  cases  of  a  gen- 
eral and  familiar  principle,  and  thus  to  bring  them 
under  control  for  interpretation  and  prediction. 

As  Professor  James  says  :  "  Think  of  heat  as  motion 
and  whatever  is  true  of  motion  will  be  true  of  heat ;  but 
we  have  a  hundred  experiences  of  motion  for  every  one 
of  heat.  Think  of  rays  passing  through  this  lens  as 
cases  of  bending  toward  the  perpendicular,  and  you 


154 


HOW  WE  THINK 


Interest  in 
the  future 
or  in 
progress 


Physical 
versus 
logical  force 


substitute  for  the  comparatively  unfamiliar  lens  the  very 
familiar  notion  of  a  particular  change  in  direction  of  a 
line,  of  which  notion  every  day  brings  us  countless 
examples."  l 

(c)  The  change  of  attitude  from  conservative  reliance 
upon  the  past,  upon  routine  and  custom,  to  faith  in  prog-/ 
ress  through  the  intelligent  regulation  of  existing  condi- 
tions, is,  of  course,  the  reflex  of  the  scientific  method  of 
experimentation.  The  empirical  method  inevitably  mag- 
nifies the  influences  of  the  past ;  the  experimental  method 
throws  into  relief  the  possibilities  of  the  future.  The 
empirical  method  says,  "  Wait  till  there  is  a  sufficient 
number  of  cases ;  "  the  experimental  method  says,  "Pro- 
duce the  cases."  The  former  depends  upon  nature's 
accidentally  happening  to  present  us  with  certain  con- 
junctions of  circumstances ;  the  latter  deliberately  and 
intentionally  endeavors  to  bring  about  the  conjunction. 
By  this  method  the  notion  of  progress  secures  scientific 
warrant. 

Ordinary  experience  is  controlled  largely  by  the  direct 
strength  and  intensity  of  various  occurrences.  What  is 
bright,  sudden,  loud,  secures  notice  and  is  given  a  con- 
spicuous rating.  What  is  dim,  feeble,  and  continuous 
gets  ignored,  or  is  regarded  as  of  slight  importance. 
Customary  experience  tends  to  the  control  of  thinking 
by  considerations  of  direct  and  immediate  strengtJi  rather 
than  by  those  of  importance  in  the  long  run.  Animals 
without  the  power  of  forecast  and  planning  must,  upon 
the  whole,  respond  to  the  stimuli  that  are  most  urgent 
at  the  moment,  or  cease  to  exist.  These  stimuli  lose 
nothing  of  their  direct  urgency  and  clamorous  insistency 
when  the  thinking  power  develops ;  and  yet  thinking 

1  Psychology,  vol.  II.  p.  342. 


EMPIRICAL   AND   SCIENTIFIC   THINKING        155 

demands  the  subordination  of  the  immediate  stimulus  to 
the  remote  and  distant.  The  feeble  and  the  minute  may 
be  of  much  greater  importance  than  the  glaring  and  the 
big.  The  latter  may  be  signs  of  a  force  that  is  already 
exhausting  itself ;  the  former  may  indicate  the  begin- 
nings of  a  process  in  which  the  whole  fortune  of  the 
individual  is  involved.  The  prime  necessity  for  scien- 
tific thought  is  that  the  thinker  be  freed  from  the  tyr- 
anny of  sense  stimuli  and  habit,  and  this  emancipation 
is  also  the  necessary  condition  of  progress. 

Consider  the  following  quotation  :  "  When  it  first  oc-  illustration 
curred  to  a  reflecting  mind  that  moving  water  had  a 
property  identical  with  human  or  brute  force,  namely, 
the  property  of  setting  other  masses  in  motion,  over- 
coming inertia  and  resistance,  —  when  the  sight  of  the 
stream  suggested  through  this  point  of  likeness  the 
power  of  the  animal,  —  a  new  addition  was  made  to 
the  class  of  prime  movers,  and  when  circumstances  per- 
mitted, this  power  could  become  a  substitute  for  the 
others.  It  may  seem  to  the  modern  understanding, 
familiar  with  water  wheels  and  drifting  rafts,  that  the 
similarity  here  was  an  extremely  obvious  one.  But  if 
we  put  ourselves  back  into  an  early  state  of  mind,  when 
running  water  affected  the  mind  by  its  brilliancy,  its  roar 
and  irregular  devastation,  we  may  easily  suppose  that 
to  identify  this  with  animal  muscular  energy  was  by  no 
means  an  obvious  effort." J 

If  we  add  to  these  obvious  sensory  features  the  vari-  Value  of 
ous  social  customs  and  expectations  which  fix  the  atti-  abstractlon 
tude  of  the  individual,  the  evil  of  the  subjection  of  free 
and  fertile  suggestion  to  empirical  considerations  be- 

1  Bain,  The  Senses  and  Intellect,  third  American  ed.,  1879,  p.  492  (italics 
not  in  original). 


156  HOW  WE   THINK 

comes  clear.  A  certain  power  of  abstraction,  of  de- 
liberate turning  away  from  the  habitual  responses  to  a 
situation,  was  required  before  men  could  be  emancipated 
to  follow  up  suggestions  that  in  the  end  are  fruitful. 
Experience  In  short,  the  term  experience  may  be  interpreted  either 
of  thought*  w^th  ref  erence  to  tne  empirical  or  the  experimental  atti- 
tude of  mind.  Experience  is  not  a  rigid  and  closed 
thing  ;  it  is  vital,  and  hence  growing.  When  dominated 
by  the  past,  by  custom  and  routine,  it  is  often  opposed 
to  the  reasonable,  the  thoughtful.  But  experience  also 
includes  the  reflection  that  sets  us  free  from  the  limiting 
influence  of  sense,  appetite,  and  tradition.  Experience 
may  welcome  and  assimilate  all  that  the  most  exact  and 
penetrating  thought  discovers.  Indeed,  the  business  of 
education  might  be  defined  as  just  such  an  emancipation 
and  enlargement  of  experience.  Education  takes  the 
individual  while  he  is  relatively  plastic,  before  he  has 
become  so  indurated  by  isolated  experiences  as  to  be 
rendered  hopelessly  empirical  in  his  habit  of  mind.  The 
attitude  of  childhood  is  na'fve,  wondering,  experimental ; 
the  world  of  man  and  nature  is  new.  Right  methods  of 
education  preserve  and  perfect  this  attitude,  and  thereby 
short-circuit  for  the  individual  the  slow  progress  of  the 
race,  eliminating  the  waste  that  comes  from  inert  routine. 


PART   THREE:    THE   TRAINING   OF 
THOUGHT 

CHAPTER  TWELVE 
ACTIVITY  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT 

IN  this  chapter  we  shall  gather  together  and  amplify 
considerations  that  have  already  been  advanced,  in  vari- 
ous passages  of  the  preceding  pages,  concerning  the  re- 
lation of  action  to  thought.  We  shall  follow,  though  not 
with  exactness,  the  order  of  development  in  the  unfold- 
ing human  being. 

§  i.    The  Early  Stage  of  Activity 

The  sight  of  a  baby  often  calls  out  the  question  :   x.  The 
"  What  do  you  suppose  he  is  thinking  about  ? "     By  the 
nature  of  the  case,  the  question  is  unanswerable  in  de-  mines  his 
tail ;  but,  also  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  we  may  be  sure  * 
about  a  baby's  chief  interest.     His  primary  problem  is 
mastery  of  his  body  as  a  tool  of  securing  comfortable  and 
effective  adjustments  to  his  surroundings,  physical  and 
social.     The  child  has  to  learn  to  do  almost  everything : 
to  see,  to  hear,  to  reach,  to  handle,  to  balance  the  body, 
to  creep,  to  walk,  and  so  on.     Even  if  it  be  true  that 
human  beings  have  even  more  instinctive  reactions  than 
lower  animals,  it  is  also  true  that  instinctive  tendencies 
are  much  less  perfect  in  men,  and  that  most  of  them  are 


158 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Mastery  of 
the  body  is 
an  intellec- 
tual prob- 
lem 


of  little  use  till  they  are  intelligently  combined  and  di- 
rected. A  little  chick  just  out  of  the  shell  will  after  a 
few  trials  peck  at  and  grasp  grains  of  food  with  its  beak 
as  well  as  at  any  later  time.  This  involves  a  complicated 
coordination  of  the  eye  and  the  head.  An  infant  does 
not  even  begin  to  reach  definitely  for  things  that  the 
eye  sees  till  he  is  several  months  old,  and  even  then 
several  weeks'  practice  is  required  before  he  learns 
the  adjustment  so  as  neither  to  overreach  nor  to  under- 
reach.  It  may  not  be  literally  true  that  the  child  will 
grasp  for  the  moon,  but  it  is  true  that  he  needs  much 
practice  before  he  can  tell  whether  an  object  is  within 
reach  or  not.  The  arm  is  thrust  out  instinctively  in  re- 
sponse to  a  stimulus  from  the  eye,  and  this  tendency  is 
the  origin  of  the  ability  to  reach  and  grasp  exactly  and 
quickly;  but  nevertheless  final  mastery  requires  ob- 
serving and  selecting  the  successful  movements,  and 
arranging  them  in  view  of  an  end.  These  operations  of 
conscious  selection  and  arrangement  constitute  thinking^ 
though  of  a  rudimentary  type. 

Since  mastery  of  the  bodily  organs  is  necessary  for 
all  later  developments,  such  problems  are  both  interest- 
ing and  important,  and  solving  them  supplies  a  very 
genuine  training  of  thinking  power.  The  joy  the  child 
shows  in  learning  to  use  his  limbs,  to  translate  what  he 
sees  into  what  he  handles,  to  connect  sounds  with  sights, 
sights  with  taste  and  touch,  and  the  rapidity  with  which 
intelligence  grows  in  the  first  year  and  a  half  of  life  (the 
time  during  which  the  more  fundamental  problems  of 
the  use  of  the  organism  are  mastered),  are  sufficient  evi- 
dence that  the  development  of  physical  control  is  not  a 
physical  but  an  intellectual  achievement. 

Although  in  the  early  months  the  child  is  mainly  oc- 


ACTIVITY  AND   THE   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT     159 

cupied  in  learning  to  use  his  body  to  accommodate  him-  2.  Theprob- 
self  to  physical  conditions  in  a  comfortable  way  and  to  ^dTustment1 
use  things  skillfully  and  effectively,  yet  social  adjust-  and  inter- 
ments are  very  important.  In  connection  with  parents,  cours' 
nurse,  brother,  and  sister,  the  child  learns  the  signs  of 
satisfaction  of  hunger,  of  removal  of  discomfort,  of  the 
approach  of  agreeable  light,  color,  sound,  and  so  on. 
His  contact  with  physical  things  is  regulated  by  persons, 
and  he  soon  distinguishes  persons  as  the  most  important 
and  interesting  of  all  the  objects  with  which  he  has  to  do. 
Speech,  the  accurate  adaptation  of  sounds  heard  to  the 
movements  of  tongue  and  lips,  is,  however,  the  great 
instrument  of  social  adaptation ;  and  with  the  develop- 
ment of  speech  (usually  in  the  second  year)  adapta- 
tion of  the  baby's  activities  to  and  with  those  of  other 
persons  gives  the  keynote  of  mental  life.  His  range 
of  possible  activities  is  indefinitely  widened  as  he 
watches  what  other  persons  do,  and  as  he  tries  to  under- 
stand and  to  do  what  they  encourage  him  to  attempt. 
The  outline  pattern  of  mental  life  is  thus  set  in  the 
first  four  or  five  years.  Years,  centuries,  generations 
of  invention  and  planning,  may  have  gone  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  performances  and  occupations  of  the  adults 
surrounding  the  child.  Yet  for  him  their  activities  are 
direct  stimuli ;  they  are  part  of  his  natural  environment ; 
they  are  carried  on  in  physical  terms  that  appeal  to  his 
eye,  ear,  and  touch.  He  cannot,  of  course,  appropriate 
their  meaning  directly  through  his  senses ;  but  they 
furnish  stimuli  to  which  he  responds,  so  that  his  atten- 
tion is  focussed  upon  a  higher  order  of  materials  and  of 
problems.  Were  it  not  for  this  process  by  which  the 
achievements  of  one  generation  form  the  stimuli  that 
direct  the  activities  of  the  next,  the  story  of  civilization 


i6o 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Social  ad- 
justment 
results  in 
imitation 
but  is  not 
caused 
by  it 


would  be  writ  in  water,  and  each  generation  would  have 
laboriously  to  make  for  itself,  if  it  could,  its  way  out  of 
savagery. 

Imitation  is  one  (though  only  one,  see  p.  47)  of  the 
means  by  which  the  activities  of  adults  supply  stimuli 
which  are  so  interesting,  so  varied,  so  complex,  and  so 
novel,  as  to  occasion  a  rapid  progress  of  thought.  Mere 
imitation,  however,  would  not  give  rise  to  thinking ;  if 
we  could  learn  like  parrots  by  simply  copying  the  out- 
ward acts  of  others,  we  should  never  have  to  think ;  nor 
should  we  know,  after  we  had  mastered  the  copied  act, 
what  was  the  meaning  of  the  thing  we  had  done.  Ed- 
ucators (and  psychologists)  have  often  assumed  that 
acts  which  reproduce  the  behavior  of  others  are  acquired 
merely  by  imitation.  But  a  child  rarely  learns  by  con- 
scious imitation  ;  and  to  say  that  his  imitation  is  uncon- 
scious is  to  say  that  it  is  not  from  his  standpoint  imitation 
at  all.  The  word,  the  gesture,  the  act,  the  occupation 
of  another,  falls  in  line  with  some  impulse  already  active 
and  suggests  some  satisfactory  mode  of  expression,  some 
end  in  which  it  may  find  fulfillment.  Having  this 
end  of  his  own,  the  child  then  notes  other  persons, 
as  he  notes  natural  events,  to  get  further  suggestions 
as  to  means  of  its  realization.  He  selects  some  of 
the  means  he  observes,  tries  them  on,  finds  them  suc- 
cessful or  unsuccessful,  is  confirmed  or  weakened  in  his 
belief  in  their  value,  and  so  continues  selecting,  arrang- 
ing, adapting,  testing,  till  he  can  accomplish  what  he 
wishes.  The  onlooker  may  then  observe  the  resem- 
blance of  this  act  to  some  act  of  an  adult,  and  conclude 
that  it  was  acquired  by  imitation,  while  as  a  matter  of 
fact  it  was  acquired  by  attention,  observation,  selection, 
experimentation,  and  confirmation  by  results.  Only 


ACTIVITY   AND  THE   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT     i6l 

because  this  method  is  employed  is  there  intellectual 
discipline  and  an  educative  result.  The  presence  of 
adult  activities  plays  an  enormous  role  in  the  intellec- 
tual growth  of  the  child  because  they  add  to  the  natural 
stimuli  of  the  world  new  stimuli  which  are  more  exactly 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  a  human  being,  which  are  richer, 
better  organized,  more  complex  in  range,  permitting 
more  flexible  adaptations,  and  calling  out  novel  reactions. 
But  in  utilizing  these  stimuli  the  child  follows  the  same 
methods  that  he  uses  when  he  is  forced  to  think  in  order 
to  master  his  body. 

§  2.  Play,  Work,  and  Allied  Forms  of  Activity 

When  things  become  signs,  when  they  gain  a  repre-  piay  indi- 
sentative  capacity  as  standing  for  other  things,  play  is  ^*^^o 
transformed  from  mere  physical  exuberance  into  an  of  activity 
activity  involving  a  mental  factor.  A  little  girl  who 
had  broken  her  doll  was  seen  to  perform  with  the  leg 
of  the  doll  all  the  operations  of  washing,  putting  to 
bed,  and  fondling,  that  she  had  been  accustomed  to  per- 
form with  the  entire  doll.  The  part  stood  for  the  whole ; 
she  reacted  not  to  the  stimulus  sensibly  present,  but  to 
the  meaning  suggested  by  the  sense  object.  So  chil- 
dren use  a  stone  for  a  table,  leaves  for  plates,  acorns 
for  cups.  So  they  use  their  dolls,  their  trains,  their 
blocks,  their  other  toys.  In  manipulating  them,  they 
are  living  not  with  the  physical  things,  but  in  the  large 
world  of  meanings,  natural  and  social,  evoked  by  these 
things.  So  when  children  play  horse,  play  store,  play 
house  or  making  calls,  they  are  subordinating  the  phys- 
ically present  to  the  ideally  signified.  In  this  way,  a 
world  of  meanings,  a  store  of  concepts  (so  fundamental 
to  all  intellectual  achievement),  is  defined  and  built  up. 


1 62 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Organiza- 
tion of  ideas 
involved  in 
play 


The  playful 
attitude 


Moreover,  not  only  do  meanings  thus  become  familiar 
acquaintances,  but  they  are  organized,  arranged  in 
groups,  made  to  cohere  in  connected  ways.  A  play 
and  a  story  blend  insensibly  into  each  other.  The  most 
fanciful  plays  of  children  rarely  lose  all  touch  with  the 
mutual  fitness  and  pertinency  of  various  meanings  to 
one  another ;  the  "  freest "  plays  observe  some  principles 
of  coherence  and  unification.  They  have  a  beginning, 
middle,  and  end.  In  games,  rules  of  order  run  through 
various  minor  acts  and  bind  them  into  a  connected 
whole.  The  rhythm,  the  competition,  and  coopera- 
tion involved  in  most  plays  and  games  also  introduce 
organization.  There  is,  then,  nothing  mysterious  or 
mystical  in  the  discovery  made  by  Plato  and  remade  by 
Froebel  that  play  is  the  chief,  almost  the  only,  mode  of 
education  for  the  child  in  the  years  of  later  infancy. 

Playfulness  is  a  more  important  consideration  than 
play.  The  former  is  an  attitude  of  mind  ;  the  latter  is 
a  passing  outward  manifestation  of  this  attitude.  When 
things  are  treated  simply  as  vehicles  of  suggestion, 
what  is  suggested  overrides  the  thing.  Hence  the 
playful  attitude  is  one  of  freedom.  The  person  is 
not  bound  to  the  physical  traits  of  things,  nor  does  he 
care  whether  a  thing  really  means  (as  we  say)  what  he 
takes  it  to  represent.  When  the  child  plays  horse  with 
a  broom  and  cars  with  chairs,  the  fact  that  the  broom 
does  not  really  represent  a  horse,  or  a  chair  a  locomo- 
tive, is  of  no  account.  In  order,  then,  that  playfulness 
may  not  terminate  in  arbitrary  fancifulness  and  in  build- 
ing up  an  imaginary  world  alongside  the  world  of 
actual  things,  it  is  necessary  that  the  play  attitude  should 
gradually  pass  into  a  work  attitude. 

What  is  work  —  work  not  as  mere  external  perform 


ACTIVITY   AND   THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     163 

ance,  but  as  attitude  of  mind  ?  It  signifies  that  the  The  work 
person  is  not  content  longer  to  accept  and  to  act  upon  ^^s*e" 
the  meanings  that  things  suggest,  but  demands  congru-  in  means 
ity  of  meaning  with  the  things  themselves.  In  the  andends 
natural  course  of  growth,  children  come  to  find  irrespon- 
sible make-believe  plays  inadequate.  A  fiction  is  too 
easy  a  way  out  to  afford  content.  There  is  not  enough 
stimulus  to  call  forth  satisfactory  mental  response.  When 
this  point  is  reached,  the  ideas  that  things  suggest  must 
be  applied  to  the  things  with  some  regard  to  fitness.  A 
small  cart,  resembling  a  "real"  cart,  with  "real"  wheels, 
tongue,  and  body,  meets  the  mental  demand  better  than 
merely  making  believe  that  anything  which  comes  to 
hand  is  a  cart.  Occasionally  to  take  part  in  setting  a 
"real"  table  with  "real"  dishes  brings  more  reward 
than  forever  to  make  believe  a  flat  stone  is  a  table  and 
that  leaves  are  dishes.  The  interest  may  still  center  in 
the  meanings,  the  things  may  be  of  importance  only  as 
amplifying  a  certain  meaning.  So  far  the  attitude  is 
one  of  play.  But  the  meaning  is  now  of  such  a  character 
that  it  must  find  appropriate  embodiment  in  actual 
things. 

The  dictionary  does  not  permit  us  to  call  such  activities 
work.  Nevertheless,  they  represent  a  genuine  passage 
of  play  into  work.  For  work  (as  a  mental  attitude,  not 
as  mere  external  performance)  means  interest  in  the  ade- 
quate embodiment  of  a  meaning  (a  suggestion,  purpose, 
aim)  /;/  objective  form  tJirongh  the  use  of  appropriate  ma- 
terials and  appliances.  Such  an  attitude  takes  advantage 
of  the  meanings  aroused  and  built  up  in  free  play,  but 
controls  their  development  by  seeing  to  it  that  they  are  ap- 
plied to  things  in  zvays  consistent  with  the  observable 
structure  of  the  things  themselves. 


164 


HOW  WE  THINK 


and  in  pro- 
cesses on 
account 
of  their 
results 


Conse- 
quences of 
the  sharp 
separation 
of  play  and 
work 


The  point  of  this  distinction  between  play  and  work 
may  be  cleared  up  by  comparing  it  with  a  more  usual  way 
of  stating  the  difference.  In  play  activity,  it  is  said,  the 
interest  is  in  the  activity  for  its  own  sake ;  in  work,  it  is 
in  the  product  or  result  in  which  the  activity  terminates. 
Hence  the  former  is  purely  free,  while  the  latter  is  tied 
down  by  the  end  to  be  achieved.  When  the  difference 
is  stated  in  this  sharp  fashion,  there  is  almost  always 
introduced  a  false,  unnatural  separation  between  process 
and  product,  between  activity  and  its  achieved  outcome. 
The  true  distinction  is  not  between  an  interest  in  activity 
for  its  own  sake  and  interest  in  the  external  result  of  that 
activity,  but  between  an  interest  in  an  activity  just  as  it 
flows  on  from  moment  to  moment,  and  an  interest  in  an 
activity  as  tending  to  a  culmination,  to  an  outcome,  and 
therefore  possessing  a  thread  of  continuity  binding  to- 
gether its  successive  stages.  Both  may  equally  exem- 
plify interest  in  an  activity  "for  its  own  sake" ;  but  in 
one  case  the  activity  in  which  the  interest  resides  is  more 
or  less  casual,  following  the  accident  of  circumstance  and 
whim,  or  of  dictation  ;  in  the  other,  the  activity  is  enriched 
by  the  sense  that  it  leads  somewhere,  that  it  amounts  to 
something. 

Were  it  not  that  the  false  theory  of  the  relation  of  the 
play  and  the  work  attitudes  has  been  connected  with 
unfortunate  modes  of  school  practice,  insistence  upon  a 
truer  view  might  seem  an  unnecessary  refinement.  But 
the  sharp  break  that  unfortunately  prevails  between 
the  kindergarten  and  the  grades  is  evidence  that 
the  theoretical  distinction  has  practical  implications. 
Under  the  title  of  play,  the  former  is  rendered  unduly 
symbolic,  fanciful,  sentimental,  and  arbitrary ;  while 
under  the  antithetical  caption  of  work  the  latter  con' 


ACTIVITY   AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     165 

tains  many  tasks  externally  assigned.  The  former  has 
no  end  and  the  latter  an  end  so  remote  that  only  the 
educator,  not  the  child,  is  aware  that  it  is  an  end. 

There  comes  a  time  when  children  must  extend  and 
make  more  exact  their  acquaintance  with  existing  things ; 
must  conceive  ends  and  consequences  with  sufficient 
definiteness  to  guide  their  actions  by  them,  and  must 
acquire  some  technical  skill  in  selecting  and  arranging 
means  to  realize  these  ends.  Unless  these  factors  are 
gradually  introduced  in  the  earlier  play  period,  they 
must  be  introduced  later  abruptly  and  arbitrarily,  to  the 
manifest  disadvantage  of  both  the  earlier  and  the  later 
stages. 

The  sharp  opposition  of  play  and  work  is  usually  False 
associated  with  false  notions  of  utility  and  imagination. 
Activity  that  is  directed  upon  matters  of  home  and  and  utility 
neighborhood  interest  is  depreciated  as  merely  utilita- 
rian. To  let  the  child  wash  dishes,  set  the  table,  engage 
in  cooking,  cut  and  sew  dolls'  clothes,  make  boxes 
that  will  hold  "  real  things,"  and  construct  his  own 
playthings  by  using  hammer  and  nails,  excludes,  so 
it  is  said,  the  aesthetic  and  appreciative  factor,  elim- 
inates imagination,  and  subjects  the  child's  development 
to  material  and  practical  concerns ;  while  (so  it  is  said) 
to  reproduce  symbolically  the  domestic  relationships  of 
birds  and  other  animals,  of  human  father  and  mother 
and  child,  of  workman  and  tradesman,  of  knight,  soldier, 
and  magistrate,  secures  a  liberal  exercise  of  mind,  of 
great  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  value.  It  has  been 
even  stated  that  it  is  over-physical  and  utilitarian  if  a 
child  plants  seeds  and  takes  care  of  growing  plants  in 
the  kindergarten;  while  reproducing  dramatically  oper- 
ations of  planting,  cultivating,  reaping,  and  so  on,  either 


1 66 


HOW    WE   THINK 


Imagination 
a  medium 
of  realizing 
the  absent 
and 
significant 


Only  the 
already 
experienced 
can  be 
symbolized 


with  no  physical  materials  or  with  symbolic  represent- 
atives, is  highly  educative  to  the  imagination  and  to 
spiritual  appreciation.  Toy  dolls,  trains  of  cars,  boats,  and 
engines  are  rigidly  excluded,  and  the  employ  of  cubes, 
balls,  and  other  symbols  for  representing  these  social 
activities  is  recommended  on  the  same  ground.  The 
more  unfitted  the  physical  object  for  its  imagined  pur- 
pose, such  as  a  cube  for  a  boat,  the  greater  is  the 
supposed  appeal  to  the  imagination. 

There  are  several  fallacies  in  this  way  of  thinking. 
(#)  The  healthy  imagination  deals  not  with  the  unreal, 
but  with  the  mental  realization  of  what  is  suggested. 
Its  exercise  is  not  a  flight  into  the  purely  fanciful  and 
ideal,  but  a  method  of  expanding  and  filling  in  what  is 
real.  To  the  child  the  homely  activities  going  on  about 
him  are  not  utilitarian  devices  for  accomplishing  physical 
ends ;  they  exemplify  a  wonderful  world  the  depths  of 
which  he  has  not  sounded,  a  world  full  of  the  mystery 
and  promise  that  attend  all  the  doings  of  the  grown-ups 
whom  he  admires.  However  prosaic  this  world  may  be 
to  the  adults  who  find  its  duties  routine  affairs,  to  the 
child  it  is  fraught  with  social  meaning.  To  engage  in 
it  is  to  exercise  the  imagination  in  constructing  an  ex- 
perience of  wider  value  than  any  the  child  has  yet 
mastered. 

(£)  Educators  sometimes  think  children  are  reacting 
to  a  great  moral  or  spiritual  truth  when  the  children's 
reactions  are  largely  physical  and  sensational.  Children 
have  great  powers  of  dramatic  simulation,  and  their 
physical  bearing  may  seem  (to  adults  prepossessed  with 
a  philosophic  theory)  to  indicate  they  have  been  im- 
pressed with  some  lesson  of  chivalry,  devotion,  or  nobil- 
ity, when  the  children  themselves  are  occupied  only 


ACTIVITY  AND   THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     167 

with  transitory  physical  excitations.  To  symbolize  great 
truths  far  beyond  the  child's  range  of  actual  experience 
is  an  impossibility,  and  to  attempt  it  is  to  invite  love  of 
momentary  stimulation. 

(c)  Just  as  the  opponents  of  play  in  education  always  Useful  work 
conceive  of  play  as  mere  amusement,  so  the  opponents  ^^y  labor" 
of  direct  and  useful  activities  confuse  occupation  with 
labor.  The  adult  is  acquainted  with  responsible  labor 
upon  which  serious  financial  results  depend.  Conse- 
quently he  seeks  relief,  relaxation,  amusement.  Unless 
children  have  prematurely  worked  for  hire,  unless  they 
have  come  under  the  blight  of  child  labor,  no  such  divi- 
sion exists  for  them.  Whatever  appeals  to  them  at  all, 
appeals  directly  on  its  own  account.  There  is  no  con- 
trast between  doing  things  for  utility  and  for  fun.  Their 
life  is  more  united  and  more  wholesome.  To  suppose 
that  activities  customarily  performed  by  adults  only 
under  the  pressure  of  utility  may  not  be  done  perfectly 
freely  and  joyously  by  children  indicates  a  lack  of  im- 
agination. Not  the  thing  done  but  the  quality  of  mind 
that  goes  into  the  doing  settles  what  is  utilitarian  and 
what  is  unconstrained  and  educative. 

§  3.    Constructive  Occupations 

The  history  of  culture  shows  that  mankind's  scientific  The  historic 
knowledge  and  technical  abilities  have  developed,  espe-  f£i°^s0out 
cially  in  all  their  earlier  stages,  out  of  the  fundamental  of  occupa- 
problems  of  life.     Anatomy  and  physiology  grew  out  of  * 
the  practical  needs  of  keeping  healthy  and  active ;  ge- 
ometry and  mechanics  out  of  demands  for  measuring 
land,  for  building,  and  for  making  labor-saving  machines ; 
astronomy  has  been  closely  connected  with  navigation, 
keeping  record  of  the  passage  of  time ;  botany  grew  out 


168  HOW  WE   THINK 

of  the  requirements  of  medicine  and  of  agronomy; 
chemistry  has  been  associated  with  dyeing,  metallurgy, 
and  other  industrial  pursuits.  In  turn,  modern  industry 
is  almost  wholly  a  matter  of  applied  science ;  year  by 
year  the  domain  of  routine  and  crude  empiricism  is  nar- 
rowed by  the  translation  of  scientific  discovery  into1 
industrial  invention.  The  trolley,  the  telephone,  the 
electric  light,  the  steam  engine,  with  all  their  revolu- 
tionary consequences  for  social  intercourse  and  control, 
are  the  fruits  of  science. 

The  Intel-  These  facts  are  full  of  educational  significance.  Most 
sibiiitiesof"  cn^dren  are  preeminently  active  in  their  tendencies, 
school  occu-  The  schools  have  also  taken  on  —  largely  from  utilita- 
rian, rather  than  from  strictly  educative  reasons  —  a  large 
number  of  active  pursuits  commonly  grouped  under  the 
head  of  manual  training,  including  also  school  gardens, 
excursions,  and  various  graphic  arts.  Perhaps  the  most 
pressing  problem  of  education  at  the  present  moment  is 
to  organize  and  relate  these  subjects  so  that  they  will 
become  instruments  for  forming  alert,  persistent,  and 
fruitful  intellectual  habits.  That  they  take  hold  of  the 
more  primary  and  native  equipment  of  children  (appeal- 
ing to  their  desire  to  do)  is  generally  recognized ;  that 
they  afford  great  opportunity  for  training  in  self-reliant 
and  efficient  social  service  is  gaining  acknowledgment. 
But  they  may  also  be  used  for  presenting  typical  prob- 
lems to  be  solved  by  personal  reflection  and  experimen- 
tation, and  by  acqtiiring  definite  bodies  of  knowledge 
leading  later  to  more  specialized  scientific  knozvledge. 
There  is  indeed  no  magic  by  which  mere  physical 
activity  or  deft  manipulation  will  secure  intellectual 
results.  (See  p.  43.)  Manual  subjects  may  be  taught 
by  routine,  by  dictation,  or  by  convention  as  readily 


ACTIVITY  AND   THE   TRAINING  OF   THOUGHT     169 

as  bookish  subjects.  But  intelligent  consecutive  work 
in  gardening,  cooking,  or  weaving,  or  in  elementary 
wood  and  iron,  may  be  planned  which  will  inevitably 
result  in  students  not  only  amassing  information  of  prac- 
tical and  scientific  importance  in  botany,  zoology,  chem- 
istry, physics,  and  other  sciences,  but  (what  is  more 
significant)  in  their  becoming  versed  in  methods  of  ex- 
perimental inquiry  and  proof. 

That  the  elementary  curriculum  is  overloaded  is  a  com-  Reorganiza- 
mon  complaint.     The  only  alternative  to  a  reactionary 
return  to  the  educational  traditions  of  the  past  lies  in  study 
working  out  the  intellectual  possibilities  resident  in  the 
various  arts,  crafts,  and  occupations,  and  reorganizing 
the   curriculum   accordingly.      Here,   more   than    else- 
where, are  found  the  means  by  which  the  blind  and 
routine  experience  of  the  race  may  be  transformed  into 
illuminated  and  emancipated  experiment. 


CHAPTER   THIRTEEN 


Ambiguous 
position  of 
language 


Language 
a  necessary 
tool  of 
thinking, 


LANGUAGE  AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT 

§  i.    Language  as  the  Tool  of  Thinking 

SPEECH  has  such  a  peculiarly  intimate  connection  with 
thought  as  to  require  special  discussion.  Although  the 
very  word  logic  comes  from  logos  (XO'YO?),  meaning  in- 
differently both  word  or  speech,  and  thought  or  reason, 
yet" words,  words,  words  "  denote  intellectual  barrenness, 
a  sham  of  thought.  Although  schooling  has  language 
as  its  chief  instrument  (and  often  as  its  chief  matter)  of 
study,  educational  reformers  have  for  centuries  brought 
their  severest  indictments  against  the  current  use  of  lan- 
guage in  the  schools.  The  conviction  that  language  is 
necessary  to  thinking  (is  even  identical  with  it)  is  met 
by  the  contention  that  language  perverts  and  conceals 
thought. 

Three  typical  views  have  been  maintained  regarding 
the  relation  of  thought  and  language :  first,  that  they 
are  identical ;  second,  that  words  are  the  garb  or  clothing 
of  thought,  necessary  not  for  thought  but  only  for  con- 
veying it ;  and  third  (the  view  we  shall  here  maintain) 
that  while  language  is  not  thought  it  is  necessary  for 
thinking  as  well  as  for  its  communication.  When  it  is 
said,  however,  that  thinking  is  impossible  without  lan- 
guage, we  must  recall  that  language  includes  much  more 
than  oral  and  written  speech.  Gestures,  pictures,  monu- 
ments, visual  images,  finger  movements  —  anything  con- 

170 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE  TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT    171 

sciously  employed  as  a  sign  is,  logically,  language.  To 
say  that  language  is  necessary  for  thinking  is  to  say 
that  signs  are  necessary.  Thought  deals  not  with  bare 
things,  but  with  their  meanings,  their  suggestions; 
and  meanings,  in  order  to  be  apprehended,  must  be 
embodied  in  sensible  and  particular  existences.  With- 
out meaning,  things  are  nothing  but  blind  stimuli  or  for  it  alone 
chance  sources  of  pleasure  and  pain ;  and  since  mean-  ?xes  mean~ 
ings  are  not  themselves  tangible  things,  they  must  be 
anchored  by  attachment  to  some  physical  existence. 
Existences  that  are  especially  set  aside  to  fixate  and 
convey  meanings  are  signs  or  symbols.  If  a  man  moves 
toward  another  to  throw  him  out  of  the  room,  his  move- 
ment is  not  a  sign.  If,  however,  the  man  points  to  the 
door  with  his  hand,  or  utters  the  sound  go,  his  movement 
is  reduced  to  a  vehicle  of  meaning  :  it  is  a  sign  or  symbol. 
In  the  case  of  signs  we  care  nothing  for  what  they  are 
in  themselves,  but  everything  for  what  they  signify  and 
represent.  Cam's,  hund,  chien,  dog  —  it  makes  no  differ- 
ence what  the  outward  thing  is,  so  long  as  the  meaning 
is  presented. 

Natural  objects  are  signs  of  other  things  and  events.  Limitations 
Clouds  stand  for  rain ;  a  footprint  represents  game  or  symbols 
an  enemy;  a  projecting  rock  serves  to  indicate  minerals 
below  the  surface.  The  limitations  of  natural  signs  are, 
however,  great,  (i)  The  physical  or  direct  sense  excita- 
tion tends  to  distract  attention  from  what  is  meant  or 
indicated.1  Almost  every  one  will  recall  pointing  out  to 
a  kitten  or  puppy  some  object  of  food,  only  to  have  the 
animal  devote  himself  to  the  hand  pointing,  not  to  the 
thing  pointed  at.  (ii)  Where  natural  signs  alone  exist, 
we  are  mainly  at  the  mercy  of  external  happenings ;  we 

1  Compare  the  quotation  from  Bain  on  p.  155. 


172  HOW  WE   THINK 

have  to  wait  until  the  natural  event  presents  itself  in 
order  to  be  warned  or  advised  of  the  possibility  of  some 
other  event  (Hi)  Natural  signs,  not  being  originally 
intended  to  be  signs,  are  cumbrous,  bulky,  inconvenient, 
unmanageable. 

Artificial  It  is  therefore  indispensable  for  any  high  development 

come  these  °^  thought  that  there  should  be  also  intentional  signs, 
restrictions.  Speech  supplies  the  requirement.  Gestures,  sounds, 
written  or  printed  forms,  are  strictly  physical  existences, 
but  their  native  value  is  intentionally  subordinated  to 
the  value  they  acquire  as  representative  of  meanings. 
(i)  The  direct  and  sensible  value  of  faint  sounds  and 
minute  written  or  printed  marks  is  very  slight. 
Accordingly,  attention  is  not  distracted  from  their 
representative  function,  (ii)  Their  production  is  under 
our  direct  control  so  that  they  may  be  produced 
when  needed.  When  we  can  make  the  word  rain,  we 
do  not  have  to  wait  for  some  physical  forerunner  of  rain 
to  call  our  thoughts  in  that  direction.  We  cannot  make 
the  cloud ;  we  can  make  the  sound,  and  as  a  token  of 
meaning  the  sound  serves  the  purpose  as  well  as  the 
cloud,  (iii)  Arbitrary  linguistic  signs  are  convenient 
and  easy  to  manage.  They  are  compact,  portable,  and 
delicate.  As  long  as  we  live  we  breathe  ;  and  modifica- 
tions by  the  muscles  of  throat  and  mouth  of  the  volume 
and  quality  of  the  air  are  simple,  easy,  and  indefinitely 
controllable.  Bodily  postures  and  gestures  of  the  hand 
and  arm  are  also  employed  as  signs,  but  they  are  coarse 
and  unmanageable  compared  with  modifications  of  breath 
to  produce  sounds.  No  wonder  that  oral  speech  has  been 
selected  as  the  main  stuff  of  intentional  intellectual  signs. 
Sounds,  while  subtle,  refined,  and  easily  modifiable,  are 
transitory.  This  defect  is  met  by  the  system  of  written 


LANGUAGE   AND  THE  TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT   173 

and  printed  words,  appealing  to  the  eye.     Litera  scripta 
manet. 

Bearing  in  mind  the  intimate  connection  of  meanings 
and  signs  (or  language),  we  may  note  in  more  detail 
what  language  does  (i)  for  specific  meanings,  and  (2)  for 
the  organization  of  meanings. 

I.  Individual  Meanings.  A  verbal  sign  (a)  selects, 
detaches,  a  meaning  from  what  is  otherwise  a  vague 
flux  and  blur  (see  p.  121);  (#)  it  retains,  registers,  stores 
that  meaning ;  and  (c)  applies  it,  when  needed,  to  the 
comprehension  of  other  things.  Combining  these  vari- 
ous functions  in  a  mixture  of  metaphors,  we  may  say 
that  a  linguistic  sign  is  a  fence,  a  label,  and  a  vehicle  — 
all  in  one. 

(a)  Every  one  has  experienced  how  learning  an  ap-  A  sign 
propriate  name  for  what  was  dim  and  vague  cleared  up  meaning 
and  crystallized  the  whole  matter.  Some  meaning  seems  distinct 
almost  within  reach,  but  is  elusive  ;  it  refuses  to  condense 
into  definite  form ;  the  attaching  of  a  word  somehow 
(just  how,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  say)  puts  limits 
around  the  meaning,  draws  it  out  from  the  void,  makes 
it  stand  out  as  an  entity  on  its  own  account.  When 
Emerson  said  that  he  would  almost  rather  know  the  true 
name,  the  poet's  name,  for  a  thing,  than  to  know  the 
thing  itself,  he  presumably  had  this  irradiating  and  il- 
luminating function  of  language  in  mind.  The  delight 
that  children  take  in  demanding  and  learning  the  names 
of  everything  about  them  indicates  that  meanings  are 
becoming  concrete  individuals  to  them,  so  that  their 
commerce  with  things  is  passing  from  the  physical  to 
the  intellectual  plane.  It  is  hardly  surprising  that  sav- 
ages attach  a  magic  efficacy  to  words.  To  name  any- 
thing is  to  give  it  a  title;  to  dignify  and  honor  it  by 


174 


HOW   WE   THINK 


A  sign 
preserves  a 
meaning 


A  sign 
transfers  a 
meaning 


raising  it  from  a  mere  physical  occurrence  to  a  meaning 
that  is  distinct  and  permanent.  To  know  the  names  of 
people  and  things  and  to  be  able  to  manipulate  these 
names  is,  in  savage  lore,  to  be  in  possession  of  their 
dignity  and  worth,  to  master  them. 

(£)  Things  come  and  go;  or  we  come  and  go,  and 
either  way  things  escape  our  notice.  Our  direct  sensible 
relation  to  things  is  very  limited.  The  suggestion  of 
meanings  by  natural  signs  is  limited  to  occasions  of  di- 
rect contact  or  vision.  But  a  meaning  fixed  by  a  linguistic 
sign  is  conserved  for  future  use.  Even  if  the  thing  is  not 
there  to  represent  the  meaning,  the  word  may  be  pro- 
duced so  as  to  evoke  the  meaning.  Since  intellectual 
life  depends  on  possession  of  a  store  of  meanings,  the 
importance  of  language  as  a  tool  of  preserving  meanings 
cannot  be  overstated.  To  be  sure,  the  method  of  storage 
is  not  wholly  aseptic ;  words  often  corrupt  and  modify 
the  meanings  they  are  supposed  to  keep  intact,  but 
liability  to  infection  is  a  price  paid  by  every  living  thing 
for  the  privilege  of  living. 

(c)  When  a  meaning  is  detached  and  fixed  by  a  sign, 
it  is  possible  to  use  that  meaning  in  a  new  context  and 
situation.  This  transfer  and  reapplication  is  the  key  to 
all  judgment  and  inference.  It  would  little  profit  a  man 
to  recognize  that  a  given  particular  cloud  was  the  pre- 
monitor  of  a  given  particular  rainstorm  if  his  recognition 
ended  there,  for  he  would  then  have  to  learn  over  and 
over  again,  since  the  next  cloud  and  the  next  rain  are  differ- 
ent events.  No  cumulative  growth  of  intelligence  would 
occur  ;  experience  might  form  habits  of  physical  adapta- 
tion but  it  would  not  teach  anything,  for  we  should  not 
be  able  to  use  a  prior  experience  consciously  to  anticipate 
and  regulate  a  further  experience.  To  be  able  to  use 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE  TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT    175 

the  past  to  judge  and  infer  the  new  and  unknown  implies 
that,  although  the  past  thing  has  gone,  its  meaning 
abides  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  applicable  in  determining 
the  character  of  the  new.  Speech  forms  are  our  great 
carriers :  the  easy-running  vehicles  by  which  meanings 
are  transported  from  experiences  that  no  longer  concern 
us  to  those  that  are  as  yet  dark  and  dubious. 

II.  Organization  of  Meanings.  In  emphasizing  the  Logical  or- 
importance  of  signs  in  relation  to  specific  meanings,  Eaniz*t10 
we  have  overlooked  another  aspect,  equally  valuable,  upon  signs 
Signs  not  only  mark  off  specific  or  individual  meanings, 
but  they  are  also  instruments  of  grouping  meanings  in 
relation  to  one  another.  Words  are  not  only  names  or 
titles  of  single  meanings ;  they  also  form  sentences  in  which 
meanings  are  organized  in  relation  to  one  another.  When 
we  say  "  That  book  is  a  dictionary,"  or  "  That  blur  of 
light  in  the  heavens  is  Halley's  comet,"  we  express  a 
logical  connection  —  an  act  of  classifying  and  defining 
that  goes  beyond  the  physical  thing  into  the  logical 
region  of  genera  and  species,  things  and  attributes.  Prop- 
ositions, sentences,  bear  the  same  relation  to  judgments 
that  distinct  words,  built  up  mainly  by  analyzing  proposi- 
tions in  their  various  types,  bear  to  meanings  or  concep- 
tions; and  just  as  words  imply  a  sentence,  so  a  sentence 
implies  a  larger  whole  of  consecutive  discourse  into 
which  it  fits.  As  is  often  said,  grammar  expresses  the 
unconscious  logic  of  the  popular  mind.  The  chief  intel- 
lectual classifications  that  constitute  the  working  capital 
of  thought  have  been  built  tip  for  us  by  our  mother  tongue. 
Our  very  lack  of  explicit  consciousness  in  using  language 
that  we  are  employing  the  intellectual  systematizations 
of  the  race  shows  how  thoroughly  accustomed  we  have 
become  to  its  logical  distinctions  and  groupings. 


176 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Teaching 
merely 
things,  not 
educative 


But  words 
separated 
from  things 
are  not  true 
signs 


§  2.    The  Abuse  of  Linguistic  Methods  in  Education 

Taken  literally,  the  maxim,"  Teach  things,  not  words," 
or  "  Teach  things  before  words,"  would  be  the  negation  of 
education  ;  it  would  reduce  mental  life  to  mere  physical 
and  sensible  adjustments.  Learning,  in  the  proper  sense, 
is  not  learning  things,  but  the  meanings  of  things,  and 
this  process  involves  the  use  of  signs,  or  language  in  its 
generic  sense.  In  like  fashion,  the  warfare  of  some 
educational  reformers  against  symbols,  if  pushed  to  ex- 
tremes, involves  the  destruction  of  the  intellectual  life, 
since  this  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being  in  those  pro- 
cesses of  definition,  abstraction,  generalization,  and 
classification  that  are  made  possible  by  symbols  alone. 
Nevertheless,  these  contentions  of  educational  reformers 
have  been  needed.  The  liability  of  a  thing  to  abuse 
is  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  its  right  use. 

Symbols  are  themselves,  as  pointed  out  above,  partic- 
ular, physical,  sensible  existences,  like  any  other  things. 
They  are  symbols  only  by  virtue  of  what  they  suggest 
and  represent,  i.e.  meanings.  (?)  They  stand  for  these 
meanings  to  any  individual  only  when  he  has  had  expe- 
rience of  some  situation  to  which  these  meanings  are 
actually  relevant.  Words  can  detach  and  preserve  a 
meaning  only  when  the  meaning  has  been  first  involved  in 
our  own  direct  intercourse  with  things.  To  attempt  to 
give  a  meaning  through  a  word  alone  without  any  deal- 
ings with  a  thing  is  to  deprive  the  word  of  intelligible 
signification  ;  against  this  attempt,  a  tendency  only  too 
prevalent  in  education,  reformers  have  protested.  More- 
over, there  is  a  tendency  to  assume  that  whenever  there 
is  a  definite  word  or  form  of  speech  there  is  also  a  defi- 
nite idea;  while,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  adults  and  children 
alike  are  capable  of  using  even  precise  verbal  formulae 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT      177 

with  only  the  vaguest  and  most  confused  sense  of  what 
they  mean.  Genuine  ignorance  is  more  profitable  be- 
cause likely  to  be  accompanied  by  humility,  curiosity, 
and  open-mindedness ;  while  ability  to  repeat  catch- 
phrases,  cant  terms,  familiar  propositions,  gives  the 
conceit  of  learning  and  coats  the  mind  with  a  varnish 
waterproof  to  new  ideas. 

(ii)   Again,  although  new  combinations  of  words  with-  Language 
out  the  intervention  of  physical  things  may  supply  new  £neltper. 
ideas,  there  are  limits  to  this  possibility.     Lazy  inertness  sonai  in- 
causes  individuals  to  accept  ideas  that  have  currency  ^flectfon 
about  them  without  personal  inquiry  and   testing.     A 
man   uses    thought,  perhaps,  to   find  out  what  others 
believe,  and  then  stops.     The  ideas  of  others  as   em- 
bodied in  language  become  substitutes  for  one's   own 
ideas.     The  use  of  linguistic  studies   and   methods   to 
halt  the  human   mind  on  the  level  of  the  attainments 
of  the  past,  to  prevent  new  inquiry  and  discovery,  to 
put  the  authority  of  tradition  in  place  of  the  authority 
of  natural  facts  and  laws,  to  reduce  the  individual  to  a 
parasite  living  on  the  secondhand  experience  of  others 
—  these  things  have  been  the  source  of  the  reformers' 
protest  against  the  preeminence  assigned  to  language  in 
schools. 

Finally,  words  that  originally  stood  for  ideas  come,  Words  as 
with  repeated  use,  to  be  mere  counters ;  they  become 
physical  things  to  be  manipulated  according  to  certain 
rules,  or  reacted  to  by  certain  operations  without  con- 
sciousness of  their  meaning.  Mr.  Stout  (who  has  called 
such  terms  "  substitute  signs  ")  remarks  that  "  algebra- 
ical and  arithmetical  signs  are  to  a  great  extent  used  as 
mere  substitute  signs.  ...  It  is  possible  to  use  signs 
of  this  kind  whenever  fixed  and  definite  rules  of  opera- 


1/8  HOW  WE   THINK 

tion  can  be  derived  from  the  nature  of  the  things  sym- 
bolized, so  as  to  be  applied  in  manipulating  the  signs, 
without  further  reference  to  their  signification.  A 
word  is  an  instrument  for  thinking  about  the  meaning 
which  it  expresses  ;  a  substitute  sign  is  a  means  of  not 
thinking  about  the  meaning  which  it  symbolizes."  The 
principle  applies,  however,  to  ordinary  words,  as  well  as 
to  algebraic  signs ;  they  also  enable  us  to  use  meanings 
so  as  to  get  results  without  thinking.  In  many  respects, 
signs  that  are  means  of  not  thinking  are  of  great  advan- 
tage ;  standing  for  the  familiar,  they  release  attention  for 
meanings  that,  being  novel,  require  conscious  interpreta- 
tion. Nevertheless,  the  premium  put  in  the  schoolroom 
upon  attainment  of  technical  facility,  upon  skill  in 
producing  external  results  (ante,  p.  51),  often  changes 
this  advantage  into  a  positive  detriment.  In  manipulat- 
ing symbols  so  as  to  recite  well,  to  get  and  give  correct 
answers,  to  follow  prescribed  formulae  of  analysis,  the 
pupil's  attitude  becomes  mechanical,  rather  than  thought- 
ful; verbal  memorizing  is  substituted  for  inquiry  into 
the  meaning  of  things.  This  danger  is  perhaps  the  one 
uppermost  in  mind  when  verbal  methods  of  education 
are  attacked. 

§  3.    The  Use  of  Language  in  its  Educational  Bearings 

Language  stands  in  a  twofold  relation  to  the  work  of 
education.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  continually  used  in 
all  studies  as  well  as  in  all  the  social  discipline  of  the 
school;  on  the  other,  it  is  a  distinct  object  of  study. 
We  shall  consider  only  the  ordinary  use  of  language, 
since  its  effects  upon  habits  of  thought  are  much  deeper 
than  those  of  conscious  study. 

The  common  statement  that  "  language  is  the  expres- 


LANGUAGE  AND   THE  TRAINING  OF   THOUGHT      179 

sion  of  thought"  conveys  only  a  half-truth,  and  a  half-  Language 
truth  that  is  likely  to  result  in  positive  error.     Language  marfiyintei. 
does  express  thought,   but  not  primarily,  nor,  at  first,  lectual  in 
even  consciously.     The  primary  motive  for  language  is  F 
to  influence  (through  the  expression  of  desire,  emotion, 
and  thought)  the  activity  of  others ;  its  secondary  use  is 
to  enter  into  more  intimate  sociable  relations  with  them ; 
its  employment  as  a  conscious  vehicle  of  thought  and 
knowledge  is  a  tertiary,  and  relatively  late,  formation. 
The  contrast  is  well  brought  out  by  the  statement  of 
John  Locke  that  words  have  a  double  use,  —  "  civil "  and 
"philosophical."     "By  their  civil  use,  I  mean  such  a 
communication  of  thoughts  and  ideas  by  words  as  may 
serve  for  the  upholding  of   common  conversation  and 
commerce  about  the  ordinary  affairs  and  conveniences 
of  civil  life.  .  .  .     By  the  philosophical  use  of  words,  I 
mean  such  a  use  of  them  as  may  serve  to  convey  the 
precise  notions  of   things,  and  to  express   in   general 
propositions  certain  and  undoubted  truths." 

This  distinction  of  the  practical  and  social  from  the  Hence  edu- 
intellectual  use  of  language  throws  much  light  on  the  to  transform 
problem  of  the  school  in  respect  to  speech.     That  prob-  it  into  an 
lem  is  to  direct  pupils'   oral  and  written  speech,   used  jool 
primarily  for  practical  and  social  ends,  so  that  gradually 
it  shall  become  a  conscious  tool  of  conveying  knowledge 
and   assisting    thought.     How   without    checking    the 
spontaneous,  natural  motives  —  motives  to  which  lan- 
guage owes  its  vitality,  force,  vividness,  and  variety  —  are 
we  to  modify  speech  habits  so  as  to  render  them  accu- 
rate and  flexible  intellectual  instruments  ?     It  is  com- 
paratively easy  to  encourage  the  original  spontaneous 
flow  and  not  make  language  over  into  a  servant  of  re- 
flective thought ;  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  check  and 


1 8o 


HOW   WE   THINK 


To  enlarge 
vocabulary, 
the  fund  of 
concepts 
should  be 
enlarged 


almost  destroy  (so  far  as  the  schoolroom  is  concerned) 
native  aim  and  interest,  and  to  set  up  artificial  and 
formal  modes  of  expression  in  some  isolated  and  techni- 
cal matters.  The  difficulty  lies  in  making  over  habits 
that  have  to  do  with  "  ordinary  affairs  and  conveniences  " 
into  habits  concerned  with  "  precise  notions."  The  suc- 
cessful accomplishing  of  the  transformation  requires 
(«')  enlargement  of  the  pupil's  vocabulary  ;  (zY)  rendering 
its  terms  more  precise  and  accurate,  and  (Hi)  formation 
of  habits  of  consecutive  discourse. 

(/)  Enlargement  of  vocabulary.  This  takes  place,  of 
course,  by  wider  intelligent  contact  with  things  and 
persons,  and  also  vicariously,  by  gathering  the  meanings 
of  words  from  the  context  in  which  they  are  heard  or 
read.  To  grasp  by  either  method  a  word  in  its  meaning 
is  to  exercise  intelligence,  to  perform  an  act  of  intelligent 
selection  or  analysis,  and  it  is  also  to  widen  the  fund  of 
meanings  or  concepts  readily  available  in  further  intel- 
lectual enterprises  (ante,  p.  126).  It  is  usual  to  distin- 
guish between  one's  active  and  one's  passive  vocabulary, 
the  latter  being  composed  of  the  words  that  are  under- 
stood when  they  are  heard  or  seen,  the  former  of  words 
that  are  used  intelligently.  The  fact  that  the  passive 
vocabulary  is  ordinarily  much  larger  than  the  active 
indicates  a  certain  amount  of  inert  energy,  of  power  not 
freely  controlled  by  an  individual.  Failure  to  use  mean- 
ings that  are  nevertheless  understood  reveals  dependence 
upon  external  stimulus,  and  lack  of  intellectual  initiative. 
This  mental  laziness  is  to  some  extent  an  artificial  prod- 
uct of  education.  Small  children  usually  attempt  to 
put  to  use  every  new  word  they  get  hold  of,  but  when 
they  learn  to  read  they  are  introduced  to  a  large  variety 
of  terms  that  there  is  no  ordinary  opportunity  to  use. 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE   TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT      i8l 

The  result  is  a  kind  of  mental  suppression,  if  not  smother- 
ing. Moreover,  the  meaning  of  words  not  actively  used 
in  building  up  and  conveying  ideas  is  never  quite  clear- 
cut  or  complete. 

While  a  limited  vocabulary  may  be  due  to  a  limited  Looseness  of 
range  of  experience,  to  a  sphere  of  contact  with  persons  COmpanfesC~ 
and  things  so  narrow  as  not  to  suggest  or  require  a  full  a  limited 
store  of  words,  it  is  also  due  to  carelessness  and  vague- 
ness.    A   happy-go-lucky   frame   of    mind   makes   the 
individual  averse  to  clear  discriminations,  either  in  per- 
ception or  in  his  own  speech.     Words  are  used  loosely 
in  an  indeterminate  kind  of   reference  to  things,    and 
the   mind   approaches   a    condition   where    practically 
everything  is  just  a  thing-um-bob  or  a  what-do-you-call- 
it.     Paucity   of   vocabulary   on  the  part  of  those  with 
whom  the  child  associates,  triviality  and  meagerness  in 
the   child's  reading  matter  (as   frequently  even  in  his 
school  readers  and  textbooks),  tend  to  shut  down  the 
area  of  mental  vision. 

We  must  note  also  the  great  difference  between  flow  Command 
of  words  and  command  of  language.     Volubility  is  not  fo^1^*86 
necessarily  a  sign  of  a  large  vocabulary ;  much  talking  command  of 
or  even  ready  speech  is  quite  compatible  with  moving 
round    and    round    in    a    circle    of    moderate    radius. 
Most  schoolrooms  suffer  from  a  lack  of  materials  and 
appliances  save  perhaps  books  —  and  even  these  are 
"written  down"  to  the  supposed  capacity,  or  incapacity, 
of  children.     Occasion  and  demand  for  an  enriched  vo- 
cabulary are  accordingly  restricted.     The  vocabulary  of 
things  studied  in  the  schoolroom  is  very  largely  isolated; 
it   does  not  link  itself  organically  to  the  range  of  the 
ideas  and  words  that  are  in  vogue  outside  the  school. 
Hence  the  enlargement  that  takes  place  is  often  nominal, 


182  HOW   WE  THINK 

adding  to  the  inert,  rather  than  to  the  active,  fund  of 
meanings  and  terms. 

(zY)  Accuracy  of  vocabulary.  One  way  in  which  the 
fund  of  words  and  concepts  is  increased  is  by  discovering 
and  naming  shades  of  meaning  —  that  is  to  say,  by  mak- 
ing the  vocabulary  more  precise.  Increase  in  definite- 
ness  is  as  important  relatively  as  is  the  enlargement  of 
the  capital  stock  absolutely. 

The  first  meanings  of  terms,  since  they  are  due  to 
suPer^cial  acquaintance  with  things,  are  general  in  the 
distinctly  sense  of  being  vague.  The  little  child  calls  all  men 
papa ;  acquainted  with  a  dog,  he  may  call  the  first  horse 
he  sees  a  big  dog.  Differences  of  quantity  and  intensity 
are  noted,  but  the  fundamental  meaning  is  so  vague  that 
it  covers  things  that  are  far  apart.  To  many  persons 
trees  are  just  trees,  being  discriminated  only  into  de- 
ciduous trees  and  evergreens,  with  perhaps  recognition 
of  one  or  two  kinds  of  each.  Such  vagueness  tends  to 
persist  and  to  become  a  barrier  to  the  advance  of  think- 
ing. Terms  that  are  miscellaneous  in  scope  are  clumsy 
tools  at  best ;  in  addition  they  are  frequently  treacherous, 
for  their  ambiguous  reference  causes  us  to  confuse 
things  that  should  be  distinguished. 

Twofold  The  growth  of  precise  terms  out  of  original  vague- 

wordTin*      ness   ta^es  place   normally  in  two  directions :   toward 

sense  or        words  that  stand  for  relationships  and  words  that  stand 

1  for  highly  individualized  traits  (compare  what  was  said 

about  the  development  of  meanings,  p.  122);  the  first 

being  associated  with  abstract,  the  second  with  concrete, 

thinking.     Some  Australian  tribes  are  said  to  have  no 

words  for  animal  or  for  plant,  while  they  have  specific 

names  for  every  variety  of  plant  and  animal  in  their 

neighborhoods.     This  minuteness  of  vocabulary  repre- 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE   TRAINING   OF  THOUGHT      183 

sents  progress  toward  definiteness,  but  in  a  one-sided  way. 
Specific  properties  are  distinguished,  but  not  relation- 
ships.1 On  the  other  hand,  students  of  philosophy  and 
of  the  general  aspects  of  natural  and  social  science  are 
apt  to  acquire  a  store  of  terms  that  signify  relations 
without  balancing  them  up  with  terms  that  designate 
specific  individuals  and  traits.  The  ordinary  use  of 
such  terms  as  causation,  law,  society,  individual,  capital, 
illustrates  this  tendency. 

In  the  history  of  language  we  find  both  aspects  of  the  Words  alter 
growth  of  vocabulary  illustrated  by  changes  in  the  sense  ?ieu"  mean~ 

J  J  ings  so  as  to 

of  words:  some  words  originally  wide  in  their  applica-  change  their 
tion  are  narrowed  to  denote  shades  of  meaning;  others 
originally  specific  are  widened  to  express  relationships. 
The  term  vernacular,  now  meaning  mother  speech,  has 
been  generalized  from  the  word  verna,  meaning  a  slave 
born  in  the  master's  household.  Publication  has  evolved 
its  meaning  of  communication  by  means  of  print,  through 
restricting  an  earlier  meaning  of  any  kind  of  communi- 
cation —  although  the  wider  meaning  is  retained  in  legal 
procedure,  as  publishing  a  libel.  The  sense  of  the  word 
average  has  been  generalized  from  a  use  connected  with 
dividing  loss  by  shipwreck  proportionately  among  various 
sharers  in  an  enterprise.2 

These  historical  changes  assist  the  educator  to  appre- 
ciate the  changes  that  occur  with  individuals  together 
with  advance  in  intellectual  resources.  In  studying 

1  The  term  general  is  itself  an  ambiguous  term,  meaning  (in  its  best 
logical  sense)  the  related  and  also  (in  its  natural  usage)  the  indefinite,  the 
vague.  General,  in  the  first  sense,  denotes  the  discrimination  of  a  prin- 
ciple or  generic  relation  ;  in  the  second  sense,  it  denotes  the  absence  of 
discrimination  of  specific  or  individual  properties. 

ZA  large  amount  of  material  illustrating  the  twofold  change  in  the  sense 
of  words  will  be  found  in  Jevons,  Lessons  in  Logic. 


1 84 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Similar 
changes 
occur  in  the 
vocabulary 
of  every 
student 


The  value 
of  technical 
terms 


geometry,  a  pupil  must  learn  both  to  narrow  and  to 
extend  the  meanings  of  such  familiar  words  as  line,  sur- 
face, angle,  square,  circle;  to  narrow  them  to  the  precise 
meanings  involved  in  demonstrations;  to  extend  them 
to  cover  generic  relations  not  expressed  in  ordinary 
usage.  Qualities  of  color  and  size  must  be  excluded ; 
relations  of  direction,  of  variation  in  direction,  of  limit, 
must  be  definitely  seized.  A  like  transformation  occurs, 
of  course,  in  every  subject  of  study.  Just  at  this  point 
lies  the  danger,  alluded  to  above,  of  simply  overlaying 
common  meanings  with  new  and  isolated  meanings  in- 
stead of  effecting  a  genuine  working-over  of  popular 
and  practical  meanings  into  adequate  logical  tools. 

Terms  used  with  intentional  exactness  so  as  to  ex- 
press a  meaning,  the  whole  meaning,  and  only  the  mean- 
ing, are  called  technical.  For  educational  purposes,  a 
technical  term  indicates  something  relative,  not  absolute ; 
for  a  term  is  technical  not  because  of  its  verbal  form  or 
its  unusualness,  but  because  it  is  employed  to  fix  a 
meaning  precisely.  Ordinary  words  get  a  technical 
quality  when  used  intentionally  for  this  end.  Whenever 
thought  becomes  more  accurate,  a  (relatively)  technical 
vocabulary  grows  up.  Teachers  are  apt  to  oscillate 
between  extremes  in  regard  to  technical  terms.  On  the 
one  hand,  these  are  multiplied  in  every  direction,  seem- 
ingly on  the  assumption  that  learning  a  new  piece  of 
terminology,  accompanied  by  verbal  description  or 
definition,  is  equivalent  to  grasping  a  new  idea.  When 
it  is  seen  how  largely  the  net  outcome  is  the  accumula- 
tion of  an  isolated  set  of  words,  a  jargon  or  scholastic 
cant,  and  to  what  extent  the  natural  power  of  judgment 
is  clogged  by  this  accumulation,  there  is  a  reaction  to 
the  opposite  extreme.  Technical  terms  are  banished; 


LANGUAGE   AND   THE   TRAINING   OF  THOUGHT      185 

"  name  words  "  exist  but  not  nouns ;  "  action  words  "  but 
not  verbs ;  pupils  may  "  take  away,"  but  not  subtract ; 
they  may  tell  what  four  fives  are,  but  not  what  four 
times  five  are,  and  so  on.  A  sound  instinct  underlies  this 
reaction  —  aversion  to  words  that  give  the  pretense,  but 
not  the  reality,  of  meaning.  Yet  the  fundamental  diffi- 
culty is  not  with  the  word,  but  with  the  idea.  If  the 
idea  is  not  grasped,  nothing  is  gained  by  using  a  more 
familiar  word ;  if  the  idea  is  perceived,  the  use  of  the 
term  that  exactly  names  it  may  assist  in  fixing  the  idea. 
Terms  denoting  highly  exact  meanings  should  be  intro- 
duced only  sparingly,  that  is,  a  few  at  a  time;  they 
should  be  led  up  to  gradually,  and  great  pains  should  be 
taken  to  secure  the  circumstances  that  render  precision 
of  meaning  significant. 

(iii)  Consecutive  discourse.  As  we  saw,  language 
connects  and  organizes  meanings  as  well  as  selects  and 
fixes  them.  As  every  meaning  is  set  in  the  context  of 
some  situation,  so  every  word  in  concrete  use  belongs  to 
some  sentence  (it  may  itself  represent  a  condensed  sen- 
tence), and  the  sentence,  in  turn,  belongs  to  some  larger 
story,  description,  or  reasoning  process.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  repeat  what  has  been  said  about  the  importance  of 
continuity  and  ordering  of  meanings.  We  may,  however, 
note  some  ways  in  which  school  practices  tend  to  inter- 
rupt consecutiveness  of  language  and  thereby  interfere 
harmfully  with  systematic  reflection,  (a)  Teachers  have  importance 
a  habit  of  monopolizing  continued  discourse.  Many,  if  J^0^*11" 
not  most,  instructors  would  be  surprised  if  informed  at  course 
the  end  of  the  day  of  the  amount  of  time  they  have 
talked  as  compared  with  any  pupil.  Children's  conver- 
sation is  often  confined  to  answering  questions  in  brief 
phrases,  or  in  single  disconnected  sentences.  Expatia- 


1 86 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Too  minute 
questioning 


Making 
avoidance 
of  error  the 
aim 


tion  and  explanation  are  reserved  for  the  teacher,  who 
often  admits  any  hint  at  an  answer  on  the  part  of  the 
pupil,  and  then  amplifies  what  he  supposes  the  child  must 
have  meant.  The  habits  of  sporadic  and  fragmentary 
discourse  thus  promoted  have  inevitably  a  disintegrating 
intellectual  influence. 

(£)  Assignment  of  too  short  lessons  when  accom- 
panied (as  it  usually  is  in^ order  to  pass  the  time  of  the 
recitation  period)  by  minute  "analytic"  questioning 
has  the  same  effect  This  evil  is  usually  at  its  height 
in  such  subjects  as  history  and  literature,  where  not 
infrequently  the  material  is  so  minutely  subdivided  as 
to  break  up  the  unity  of  meaning  belonging  to  a  given 
portion  of  the  matter,  to  destroy  perspective,  and  in 
effect  to  reduce  the  whole  topic  to  an  accumulation  of 
disconnected  details  all  upon  the  same  level.  More 
often  than  the  teacher  is  aware,  his  mind  carries  and 
supplies  the  background  of  unity  of  meaning  against 
which  pupils  project  isolated  scraps. 

(c)  Insistence  upon  avoiding  error  instead  of  attain- 
ing power  tends  also  to  interruption  of  continuous  dis- 
course and  thought.  Children  who  begin  with  something 
to  say  and  with  intellectual  eagerness  to  say  it  are  some- 
times made  so  conscious  of  minor  errors  in  substance 
and  form  that  the  energy  that  should  go  into  constructive 
thinking  is  diverted  into  anxiety  not  to  make  mistakes, 
and  even,  in  extreme  cases,  into  passive  quiescence  as 
the  best  method  of  minimizing  error.  This  tendency 
is  especially  marked  in  connection  with  the  writing  of 
compositions,  essays,  and  themes.  It  has  even  been 
gravely  recommended  that  little  children  should  always 
write  on  trivial  subjects  and  in  short  sentences  because 
in  that  way  they  are  less  likely  to  make  mistakes,  while 


LANGUAGE  AND   THE   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT      187 

the  teaching  of  writing  to  high  school  and  college 
students  occasionally  reduces  itself  to  a  technique  for 
detecting  and  designating  mistakes.  The  resulting  self- 
consciousness  and  constraint  are  only  part  of  the  evil 
that  comes  from  a  negative  ideal. 


CHAPTER   FOURTEEN 


No  thinking 
without  ac- 
quaintance 
with  facts 


Fallacy  of 
making 
"facts"  an 
end  in 
themselves 


OBSERVATION  AND  INFORMATION  IN  THE  TRAINING 
OF   MIND 

THINKING  is  an  ordering  of  subject-matter  with  ref- 
erence to  discovering  what  it  signifies  or  indicates. 
Thinking  no  more  exists  apart  from  this  arranging  of 
subject-matter  than  digestion  occurs  apart  from  the 
assimilating  of  food.  The  way  in  which  the  subject- 
matter  is  furnished  marks,  therefore,  a  fundamental 
point.  If  the  subject-matter  is  provided  in  too  scanty 
or  too  profuse  fashion,  if  it  comes  in  disordered  array  or 
in  isolated  scraps,  the  effect  upon  habits  of  thought  is 
detrimental.  If  personal  observation  and  communica- 
tion of  information  by  others  (whether  in  books  or 
speech)  are  rightly  conducted,  half  the  logical  battle  is 
won,  for  they  are  the  channels  of  obtaining  subject- 
matter. 

§  i.    The  Nature  and  Value  of  Observation 

The  protest,  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter,  of  educa- 
tional reformers  against  the  exaggerated  and  false  use 
of  language,  insisted  upon  personal  and  direct  observa- 
tion as  the  proper  alternative  course.  The  reformers 
felt  that  the  current  emphasis  upon  the  linguistic  factor 
eliminated  all  opportunity  for  first-hand  acquaintance 
with  real  things ;  hence  they  appealed  to  sense-percep- 
tion to  fill  the  gap.  It  is  not  surprising  that  this 
enthusiastic  zeal  failed  frequently  to  ask  how  and  why 

itt 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  189 

observation  is  educative,  and  hence  fell  into  the  error  of 
making  observation  an  end  in  itself  and  was  satisfied 
with  any  kind  of  material  under  any  kind  of  conditions. 
Such  isolation  of  observation  is  still  manifested  in  the 
statement  that  this  faculty  develops  first,  then  that  of 
memory  and  imagination,  and  finally  the  faculty  of 
thought.  From  this  point  of  view,  observation  is  re- 
garded as  furnishing  crude  masses  of  raw  material,  to 
which,  later  on,  reflective  processes  may  be  applied. 
Our  previous  pages  should  have  made  obvious  the  fal- 
lacy of  this  point  of  view  by  bringing  out  the  fact  that 
simple  concrete  thinking  attends  all  our  intercourse  with 
things  which  is  not  on  a  purely  physical  level. 

I.  All  persons  have  a  natural  desire  —  akin  to  curios-  Thesympa- 
ity  —  for  a  widening  of  their  range  of  acquaintance  motive  in 
with  persons  and  things.  The  sign  in  art  galleries  that  extending 
forbids  the  carrying  of  canes  and  umbrellas  is  obvious 
testimony  to  the  fact  that  simply  to  see  is  not  enough 
for  many  people ;  there  is  a  feeling  of  lack  of  acquaint- 
ance until  some  direct  contact  is  made.  This  demand 
for  fuller  and  closer  knowledge  is  quite  different  from 
any  conscious  interest  in  observation  for  its  own  sake. 
Desire  for  expansion,  for  "  self-realization,"  is  its  motive. 
The  interest  is  sympathetic,  socially  and  aesthetically 
sympathetic,  rather  than  cognitive.  While  the  interest 
is  especially  keen  in  children  (because  their  actual  ex- 
perience is  so  small  and  their  possible  experience  so 
large),  it  still  characterizes  adults  when  routine  has  not 
blunted  its  edge.  This  sympathetic  interest  provides 
the  medium  for  carrying  and  binding  together  what 
would  otherwise  be  a  multitude  of  items,  diverse,  discon- 
nected, and  of  no  intellectual  use.  These  systems  are 
indeed  social  and  aesthetic  rather  than  consciously  Intel- 


190 


HOW  WE  THINK 


Analytic 
inspection 
for  the  sake 
of  doing 


lectual ;  but  they  provide  the  natural  medium  for  more 
conscious  intellectual  explorations.  Some  educators  have 
recommended  that  nature  study  in  the  elementary  schools 
be  conducted  with  a  love  of  nature  and  a  cultivation  of 
aesthetic  appreciation  in  view  rather  than  in  a  purely 
analytic  spirit.  Others  have  urged  making  much  of  the 
care  of  animals  and  plants.  Both  of  these  important 
recommendations  have  grown  out  of  experience,  not  out 
of  theory,  but  they  afford  excellent  exemplifications  of 
the  theoretic  point  just  made. 

II.  In  normal  development,  specific  analytic  observa- 
tions are  originally  connected  almost  exclusively  with 
the  imperative  need  for  noting  means  and  ends  in  carry- 
ing on  activities.  When  one  is  doing  something,  one  is 
compelled,  if  the  work  is  to  succeed  (unless  it  is  purely 
routine),  to  use  eyes,  ears,  and  sense  of  touch  as  guides 
to  action.  Without  a  constant  and  alert  exercise  of  the 
senses,  not  even  plays  and  games  can  go  on;  in  any 
form  of  work,  materials,  obstacles,  appliances,  failures, 
and  successes,  must  be  intently  watched.  Sense-percep- 
tion does  not  occur  for  its  own  sake  or  for  purposes  of 
training,  but  because  it  is  an  indispensable  factor  of  suc- 
cess in  doing  what  one  is  interested  in  doing.  Although 
not  designed  for  sense-training,  this  method  effects  sense- 
training  in  the  most  economical  and  thoroughgoing  way. 
Various  schemes  have  been  designed  by  teachers  for 
cultivating  sharp  and  prompt  observation  of  forms,  as 
by  writing  words,  —  even  in  an  unknown  language,  — 
making  arrangements  of  figures  and  geometrical  forms, 
and  having  pupils  reproduce  them  after  a  momentary 
glance.  Children  often  attain  great  skill  in  quick  see- 
ing and  full  reproducing  of  even  complicated  meaning- 
less combinations.  But  such  methods  of  training — • 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  191 

however  valuable  as  occasional  games  and  diversions  — 
compare  very  unfavorably  with  the  training  of  eye  and 
hand  that  comes  as  an  incident  of  work  with  tools  in 
wood  or  metals,  or  of  gardening,  cooking,  or  the  care  of 
animals.  Training  by  isolated  exercises  leaves  no  de- 
posit, leads  nowhere ;  and  even  the  technical  skill  ac- 
quired has  little  radiating  power,  or  transferable  value. 
Criticisms  made  upon  the  training  of  observation  on  the 
ground  that  many  persons  cannot  correctly  reproduce 
the  forms  and  arrangement  of  the  figures  on  the  face  of  Direct  and 
their  watches  misses  the  point  because  persons  do  not  mdirect 

sense 

look  at  a  watch  to  find  out  whether  four  o'clock  is  indi-  training 
cated  by  1 1 II  or  by  IV,  but  to  find  out  what  time  it  is, 
and,  if  observation  decides  this  matter,  noting  other  de- 
tails is  irrelevant  and  a  waste  of  time.  In  the  training 
of  observation  the  question  of  end  and  motive  is  all- 
important. 

III.  The  further,  more  intellectual  or  scientific,  de-  Scientific 
velopment  of  observation  follows  the  line  of  the  growth  ^eiilkSt 
of  practical  into  theoretical  reflection  already  traced  problems 
(ante,  Chapter  Ten).  As  problems  emerge  and  are 
dwelt  upon,  observation  is  directed  less  to  the  facts 
that  bear  upon  a  practical  aim  and  more  upon  what 
bears  upon  a  problem  as  such.  What  makes  observa- 
tions in  schools  often  intellectually  ineffective  is  (more 
than  anything  else)  that  they  are  carried  on  independ- 
ently of  a  sense  of  a  problem  that  they  serve  to  define 
or  help  to  solve.  The  evil  of  this  isolation  is  seen 
through  the  entire  educational  system,  from  the  kin- 
dergarten, through  the  elementary  and  high  schools,  to 
the  college.  Almost  everywhere  may  be  found,  at  some 
time,  recourse  to  observations  as  if  they  were  of  com- 
plete and  final  value  in  themselves,  instead  of  the  means 


192  HOW  WE  THINK 

"  Object-       of  getting  material  that  bears  upon  some  difficulty  and 
its  solution.     In  the  kindergarten  are  heaped  up  obser- 
suppiy  vations   regarding   geometrical  forms,    lines,    surfaces, 

problems  cubes,  colors,  and  so  on.  In  the  elementary  school,  under 
the  name  of  "object-lessons,"  the  form  and  properties 
of  objects,  —  apple,  orange,  chalk,  —  selected  almost  at 
random,  are  minutely  noted,  while  under  the  name  of 
"  nature  study  "  similar  observations  are  directed  upon 
leaves,  stones,  insects,  selected  in  almost  equally  arbitrary 
fashion.  In  high  school  and  college,  laboratory  and  mi- 
croscopic observations  are  carried  on  as  if  the  accumu- 
lation of  observed  facts  and  the  acquisition  of  skill  in 
manipulation  were  educational  ends  in  themselves. 

Compare  with  these  methods  of  isolated  observations 
the  statement  of  Jevons  that  observation  as  conducted 
by  scientific  men  is  effective  "only  when  excited  and 
guided  by  hope  of  verifying  a  theory  "  ;  and  again,  "  the 
number  of  things  which  can  be  observed  and  experi- 
mented upon  are  infinite,  and  if  we  merely  set  to  work  to 
record  facts  without  any  distinct  purpose,  our  records  will 
have  no  value."  Strictly  speaking,  the  first  statement 
of  Jevons  is  too  narrow.  Scientific  men  institute  observa- 
tions not  merely  to  test  an  idea  (or  suggested  explanatory 
meaning),  but  also  to  locate  the  nature  of  a  problem  and 
thereby  guide  the  formation  of  a  hypothesis.  But  the 
principle  of  his  remark,  namely,  that  scientific  men  never 
make  the  accumulation  of  observations  an  end  in  itself, 
but  always  a  means  to  a  general  intellectual  conclusion, 
is  absolutely  sound.  Until  the  force  of  this  principle  is 
adequately  recognized  in  education,  observation  will  be 
largely  a  matter  of  uninteresting  dead  work  or  of  acquir- 
ing forms  of  technical  skill  that  are  not  available  as  in- 
tellectual resources. 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  193 

§  2.    Methods  and  Materials  of  Observation  in  the  Schools 
The  best  methods  in  use  in  our  schools  furnish  many 
suggestions   for  giving   observation   its  right   place   in 
mental  training. 

I.  They  rest  upon  the  sound  assumption  that  observa-  Observation 
tion  is  an   active  process.     Observation  is  exploration,  ^""g1^^." 
inquiry  for  the  sake  of  discovering  something  previously  covery 
hidden  and  unknown,  this  something  being  needed  in 

order  to  reach  some  end,  practical  or  theoretical.  Ob- 
servation is  to  be  discriminated  from  recognition,  or 
perception  of  what  is  familiar.  The  identification  of 
something  already  understood  is,  indeed,  an  indispen- 
sable function  of  further  investigation  {ante,  p.  119);  but 
it  is  relatively  automatic  and  passive,  while  observation 
proper  is  searching  and  deliberate.  Recognition  refers 
to  the  already  mastered ;  observation  is  concerned  with 
mastering  the  unknown.  The  common  notions  that 
perception  is  like  writing  on  a  blank  piece  of  paper,  or 
like  impressing  an  image  on  the  mind  as  a  seal  is 
imprinted  on  wax  or  as  a  picture  is  formed  on  a  photo- 
graphic plate  (notions  that  have  played  a  disastrous  r61e 
in  educational  methods),  arise  from  a  failure  to  distin- 
guish between  automatic  recognition  and  the  searching 
attitude  of  genuine  observation. 

II.  Much  assistance  in  the  selection  of  appropriate  andsus- 
material  for  observation  may  be  derived  from  consider- 

ing  the  eagerness  and  closeness  of  observation  that  attend  change 
the  following  of  a  story  or  drama.  Alertness  of  ob- 
servation is  at  its  height  wherever  there  is  "  plot  interest." 
Why  ?  Because  of  the  balanced  combination  of  the  old 
and  the  new,  of  the  familiar  and  the  unexpected.  We 
hang  on  the  lips  of  the  story-teller  because  of  the 
element  of  mental  suspense.  Alternatives  are  suggested, 


194 


HOW   WE   THINK 


This  "  plot 
interest" 
manifested 
in  activity, 


and  in  cycles 
of  growth 


but  are  left  ambiguous,  so  that  our  whole  being  questions: 
What  befell  next  ?  Which  way  did  things  turn  out  ? 
Contrast  the  ease  and  fullness  with  which  a  child  notes 
all  the  salient  traits  of  a  story,  with  the  labor  and 
inadequacy  of  his  observation  of  some  dead  and  static 
thing  where  nothing  raises  a  question  or  suggests  alter- 
native outcomes. 

When  an  individual  is  engaged  in  doing  or  making 
something  (the  activity  not  being  of  such  a  mechanical 
and  habitual  character  that  its  outcome  is  assured),  there 
is  an  analogous  situation.  Something  is  going  to  come 
of  what  is  present  to  the  sense,  but  just  what  is  doubt- 
ful. The  plot  is  unfolding  toward  success  or  failure, 
but  just  when  or  how  is  uncertain.  Hence  the  keen 
and  tense  observation  of  conditions  and  results  that 
attends  constructive  manual  operations.  Where  the 
subject-matter  is  of  a  more  impersonal  sort,  the  same 
principle  of  movement  toward  a  denouement  may  apply. 
It  is  a  commonplace  that  what  is  moving  attracts  notice 
when  that  which  is  at  rest  escapes  it.  Yet  too  often  it 
would  almost  seem  as  if  pains  had  been  taken  to  deprive 
the  material  of  school  observations  of  all  life  and  dra- 
matic quality,  to  reduce  it  to  a  dead  and  inert  form. 
Mere  change  is  not  enough,  however.  Vicissitude, 
alteration,  motion,  excite  observation ;  but  if  they 
merely  excite  it,  there  is  no  thought.  The  changes 
must  (like  the  incidents  of  a  well-arranged  story  or  plot) 
take  place  in  a  certain  cumulative  order ;  each  succes- 
sive change  must  at  once  remind  us  of  its  predecessor 
and  arouse  interest  in  its  successor  if  observations  of 
change  are  to  be  logically  fruitful. 

Living  beings,  plants,  and  animals,  fulfill  the  twofold 
requirement  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  Where  there 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  195 

is  growth,  there  is  motion,  change,  process ;  and  there  is 
also  arrangement  of  the  changes  in  a  cycle.  The  first 
arouses,  the  second  organizes,  observation.  Much  of  the 
extraordinary  interest  that  children  take  in  planting 
seeds  and  watching  the  stages  of  their  growth  is  due  to 
the  fact  that  a  drama  is  enacting  before  their  eyes; 
there  is  something  doing,  each  step  of  which  is  impor- 
tant in  the  destiny  of  the  plant.  The  great  practical 
improvements  that  have  occurred  of  late  years  in  the 
teaching  of  botany  and  zoology  will  be  found,  upon  in- 
spection, to  involve  treating  plants  and  animals  as  beings 
that  act,  that  do  something,  instead  of  as  mere  inert 
specimens  having  static  properties  to  be  inventoried, 
named,  and  registered.  Treated  in  the  latter  fashion, 
observation  is  inevitably  reduced  to  the  falsely  "analytic" 
(ante,  p.  112),  —  to  mere  dissection  and  enumeration. 

There  is,  of  course,  a  place,  and  an  important  place,  Observation 
for  observation  of  the  mere  static  qualities  of  objects,  ^o^out" 
When,  however,  the  primary  interest  is  in  function,  in  of  noting 
what  the  object  does,  there  is  a  motive  for  more  minute 
analytic  study,  for  the  observation  of  structure.  Interest 
in  noting  an  activity  passes  insensibly  into  noting  how 
the  activity  is  carried  on ;  the  interest  in  what  is  accom- 
plished passes  over  into  an  interest  in  the  organs  of  its 
accomplishing.  But  when  the  beginning  is  made  with 
the  morphological,  the  anatomical,  the  noting  of  peculiar- 
ities of  form,  size,  color,  and  distribution  of  parts,  the 
material  is  so  cut  off  from  significance  as  to  be  dead  and 
dull.  It  is  as  natural  for  children  to  look  intently  for 
the  stomata  of  a  plant  after  they  have  become  interested 
in  its  function  of  breathing,  as  it  is  repulsive  to  attend 
minutely  to  them  when  they  are  considered  as  isolated 
peculiarities  of  structure. 


196 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Scientific 
observation 


should  be 
extensive 


and 
intensive 


III.  As  the  center  of  interest  of  observations  becomes 
less  personal,  less  a  matter  of  means  for  effecting  one's 
own  ends,  and  less  aesthetic,  less  a  matter  of  contribution 
of  parts  to  a  total  emotional  effect,  observation  becomes 
more  consciously  intellectual  in  quality.  Pupils  learn 
to  observe  for  the  sake  (z)  of  finding  out  what  sort  of 
perplexity  confronts  them  ;  (z'z)  of  inferring  hypothetical 
explanations  for  the  puzzling  features  that  observation 
reveals ;  and  {Hi)  of  testing  the  ideas  thus  suggested. 

In  short,  observation  becomes  scientific  in  nature. 
Of  such  observations  it  may  be  said  that  they  should 
follow  a  rhythm  between  the  extensive  and  the  intensive. 
Problems  become  definite,  and  suggested  explanations 
significant  by  a  certain  alternation  between  a  wide  and 
somewhat  loose  soaking  in  of  relevant  facts  and  a  mi- 
nutely accurate  study  of  a  few  selected  facts.  The 
wider,  less  exact  observation  is  necessary  to  give  the 
student  a  feeling  for  the  reality  of  the  field  of  inquiry,  a 
sense  of  its  bearings  and  possibilities,  and  to  store  his 
mind  with  materials  that  imagination  may  transform 
into  suggestions.  The  intensive  study  is  necessary  for 
limiting  the  problem,  and  for  securing  the  conditions  of 
experimental  testing.  As  the  latter  by  itself  is  too 
specialized  and  technical  to  arouse  intellectual  growth, 
the  former  by  itself  is  too  superficial  and  scattering  for 
control  of  intellectual  development.  In  the  sciences 
of  life,  field  study,  excursions,  acquaintance  with  living 
things  in  their  natural  habitats,  may  alternate  with 
microscopic  and  laboratory  observation.  In  the  physical 
sciences,  phenomena  of  light,  of  heat,  of  electricity,  of 
moisture,  of  gravity,  in  their  broad  setting  in  nature  — 
their  physiographic  setting  —  should  prepare  for  an  exact 
study  of  selected  facts  under  conditions  of  laboratory 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  197 

control.  In  this  way,  the  student  gets  the  benefit  of 
technical  scientific  methods  of  discovery  and  testing, 
while  he  retains  his  sense  of  the  identity  of  the  labora- 
tory modes  of  energy  with  large  out-of-door  realities, 
thereby  avoiding  the  impression  (that  so  often  accrues) 
that  the  facts  studied  are  peculiar  to  the  laboratory. 

§  3.    Communication  of  Information 

When  all  is  said  and  done  the  field  of  fact  open  to  importance 
any  one  observer  by  himself  is  narrow.  Into  every  one  of 
our  beliefs,  even  those  that  we  have  worked  out  under  the  ance 
conditions  of  utmost  personal,  first-hand  acquaintance, 
much  has  insensibly  entered  from  what  we  have  heard 
or  read  of  the  observations  and  conclusions  of  others. 
In  spite  of  the  great  extension  of  direct  observation  in 
our  schools,  the  vast  bulk  of  educational  subject-matter 
is  derived  from  other  sources  —  from  text-book,  lecture, 
and  viva-voce  interchange.  No  educational  question  is 
of  greater  import  than  how  to  get  the  most  logical  good 
out  of  learning  through  transmission  from  others. 

Doubtless   the   chief    meaning    associated   with    the 
word  instruction  is  this  conveying  and  instilling  of  the 
results  of  the  observations  and  inferences  of  others. 
Doubtless  the  undue  prominence  in  education  of  the 
ideal  of  amassing  information  (ante,  p.  52)  has  its  source 
in    the   prominence  of  the  learning  of  other  persons. 
The  problem  then  is  how  to  convert  it  into  an  intel- 
lectual asset.     In  logical  terms,  the  material  supplied 
from  the  experience  of  others  is  testimony:  that  is  to  Logically, 
say,  evidence  submitted  by  others  to  be  employed  by  ^i*^3- 
one's  own  judgment  in  reaching  a  conclusion.     How  denceor 
shall  we  treat  the  subject-matter  supplied  by  textbook  *      nony 
and  teacher  so  that  it  shall  rank  as  material  for  reflec- 


198  HOW  WE   THINK 

tive  inquiry,  not  as  ready-made  intellectual  pabulum 
to  be  accepted  and  swallowed  just  as  supplied  by  the 
store  ? 

Communi-         In  reply  to  this  question,  we  may  say  (z)  that  the  com- 

others  munication  of  material  should  be  needed.     That  is  to  say, 

should  not     it  should  be  such  as  cannot  readily  be  attained  by  per-' 

observation"  sonal  observation.     For  teacher  or  book  to  cram  pupils 

with  facts  which,  with  little  more  trouble,  they  could 

discover  by  direct  inquiry  is  to  violate  their  intellectual 

integrity  by  cultivating  mental  servility.     This  does  not 

mean  that  the  material  supplied  through  communication 

of  others  should  be  meager  or  scanty.     With  the  utmost 

range  of  the  senses,  the  world  of  nature  and  history 

stretches  out  almost  infinitely  beyond.     But  the  fields 

within  which  direct  observation  is  feasible  should  be 

carefully  chosen  and  sacredly  protected. 

should  not  (ii)  Material  should  be  supplied  by  way  of  stimulus, 
intone™8  C  not  witl1  dogmatic  finality  and  rigidity.  When  pupils 
get  the  notion  that  any  field  of  study  has  been  definitely 
surveyed,  that  knowledge  about  it  is  exhaustive  and  final, 
they  may  continue  docile  pupils,  but  they  cease  to  be 
students.  All  thinking  whatsoever  —  so  be  it  is  think- 
ing —  contains  a  phase  of  originality.  This  originality 
does  not  imply  that  the  student's  conclusion  varies  from 
the  conclusions  of  others,  much  less  that  it  is  a  radically 
novel  conclusion.  His  originality  is  not  incompatible 
with  large  use  of  materials  and  suggestions  contributed 
by  others.  Originality  means  personal  interest  in  the 
question,  personal  initiative  in  turning  over  the  sugges- 
tions furnished  by  others,  and  sincerity  in  following 
them  out  to  a  tested  conclusion.  Literally,  the  phrase 
"Think  for  yourself"  is  tautological;  any  thinking  is 
thinking  for  one's  self. 


OBSERVATION   AND   INFORMATION  199 

(Hi)  The  material  furnished  by  way  of  information  should  have 


should  be  relevant  to  a  question  that  is  vital  in  the  40  * 


student's  own  experience.  What  has  been  said  about  problem, 
the  evil  of  observations  that  begin  and  end  in  them  selves 
may  be  transferred  without  change  to  communicated 
learning.  Instruction  in  subject-matter  that  does  not 
fit  into  any  problem  already  stirring  in  the  student's  own 
experience,  or  that  is  not  presented  in  such  a  way  as  to 
arouse  a  problem,  is  worse  than  useless  for  intellectual 
purposes.  In  that  it  fails  to  enter  into  any  process  of 
reflection,  it  is  useless  ;  in  that  it  remains  in  the  mind  as 
so  much  lumber  and  debris,  it  is  a  barrier,  an  obstruc- 
tion in  the  way  of  effective  thinking  when  a  problem 
arises. 

Another  way  of  stating  the  same  principle  is  that  and  to  prior 
material  furnished  by  communication  must  be  such 
as  to  enter  into  some  existing  system  or  organization  of 
experience.  All  students  of  psychology  are  familiar 
with  the  principle  of  apperception  —  that  we  assimilate 
new  material  with  what  we  have  digested  and  retained 
from  prior  experiences.  Now  the  "  apperceptive  basis  " 
of  material  furnished  by  teacher  and  text-book  should 
be  found,  as  far  as  possible,  in  what  the  learner  has  de- 
rived from  more  direct  forms  of  his  own  experience. 
There  is  a  tendency  to  connect  material  of  the  school- 
room simply  with  the  material  of  prior  school  lessons, 
instead  of  linking  it  to  what  the  pupil  has  acquired  in 
his  out-of  -school  experience.  The  teacher  says,  "  Do 
you  not  remember  what  we  learned  from  the  book  last 
week  ?  "  —  instead  of  saying,  "  Do  you  not  recall  such 
and  such  a  thing  that  you  have  seen  or  heard  ?  "  As  a 
result,  there  are  built  up  detached  and  independent 
systems  of  school  knowledge  that  inertly  overlay  the 


200  HOW  WE  THINK 

ordinary  systems  of  experience  instead  of  reacting  to 
enlarge  and  refine  them.  Pupils  are  taught  to  live  in 
two  separate  worlds,  one  the  world  of  out-of-school  ex- 
perience, the  other  the  world  of  books  and  lessons. 


CHAPTER   FIFTEEN 
THE   RECITATION  AND   THE   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT 

IN  the  recitation  the  teacher  comes  into  his  closest  importance 

contact  with   the   pupil.     In  the   recitation   focus   the  of^e.. 

recitation 

possibilities  of  guiding  children's  activities,  influencing 
their  language  habits,  and  directing  their  observations. 
In  discussing  the  significance  of  the  recitation  as  an 
instrumentality  of  education,  we  are  accordingly  bring- 
ing to  a  head  the  points  considered  in  the  last  three 
chapters,  rather  than  introducing  a  new  topic.  The 
method  in  which  the  recitation  is  carried  on  is  a  crucial 
test  of  a  teacher's  skill  in  diagnosing  the  intellectual 
state  of  his  pupils  and  in  supplying  the  conditions  that 
will  arouse  serviceable  mental  responses  :  in  short,  of 
his  art  as  a  teacher. 

The  use  of  the  word  recitation  to  designate  the  period  Re-citing 
of  most  intimate  intellectual  contact  of  teacher  with  wr5MS 
pupil  and  pupil  with  pupil  is  a  fateful  fact.  To  re-cite 
is  to  cite  again,  to  repeat,  to  tell  over  and  over.  If  we 
were  to  call  this  period  reiteration,  the  designation 
would  hardly  bring  out  more  clearly  than  does  the  word 
recitation,  the  complete  domination  of  instruction  by 
rehearsing  of  secondhand  information,  by  memorizing 
for  the  sake  of  producing  correct  replies  at  the  proper 
time.  Everything  that  is  said  in  this  chapter  is  in- 
significant in  comparison  with  the  primary  truth  that 
the  recitation  is  a  place  and  time  for  stimulating  and 
directing  reflection,  and  that  reproducing  memorized 

201 


202 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Herbarfs 

analysis 
of  method 
of  teaching 


Illustration 
of  method 


matter  is  only  an  incident  —  even  though  an  indispen- 
sable incident  —  in  the  process  of  cultivating  a  thought- 
ful attitude. 

§  i.    The  Formal  Steps  of  Instruction 

But  few  attempts  have  been  made  to  formulate  a 
method,  resting  on  general  principles,  of  conducting 
a  recitation.  One  of  these  is  of  great  importance  and 
has  probably  had  more  and  better  influence  upon  the 
"hearing  of  lessons"  than  all  others  put  together; 
namely,  the  analysis  by  Herbart  of  a  recitation  into 
five  successive  steps.  The  steps  are  commonly  known 
as  "the  formal  steps  of  instruction."  The  underlying 
notion  is  that  no  matter  how  subjects  vary  in  scope  and 
detail  there  is  one  and  only  one  best  way  of  mastering 
them,  since  there  is  a  single  "  general  method "  uni- 
formly followed  by  the  mind  in  effective  attack  upon 
any  subject.  Whether  it  be  a  first-grade  child  master- 
ing the  rudiments  of  number,  a  grammar-school  pupil 
studying  history,  or  a  college  student  dealing  with 
philology,  in  each  case  the  first  step  is  preparation, 
the  second  presentation,  followed  in  turn  by  comparison 
and  generalization,  ending  in  the  application  of  the 
generalizations  to  specific  and  new  instances. 

By  preparation  is  meant  asking  questions  to  remind 
pupils  of  familiar  experiences  of  their  own  that  will  be 
useful  in  acquiring  the  new  topic.  What  one  already 
knows  supplies  the  means  with  which  one  apprehends 
the  unknown.  Hence  the  process  of  learning  the  new 
will  be  made  easier  if  related  ideas  in  the  pupil's  mind 
are  aroused  to  activity  —  are  brought  to  the  foreground 
of  consciousness.  When  pupils  take  up  the  study  of 
rivers,  they  are  first  questioned  about  streams  or  brooks 


RECITATION   AND  TRAINING   OF  THOUGHT     203 

with  which  they  are  already  acquainted ;  if  they  have 
never  seen  any,  they  may  be  asked  about  water  running 
in  gutters.  Somehow  "  apperceptive  masses  "  are  stirred 
that  will  assist  in  getting  hold  of  the  new  subject.  The 
step  of  preparation  ends  with  statement  of  the  aim  of 
the  lesson.  Old  knowledge  having  been  made  active, 
new  material  is  then  "  presented  "  to  the  pupils.  Pic- 
tures and  relief  models  of  rivers  are  shown ;  vivid  oral 
descriptions  are  given ;  if  possible,  the  children  are 
taken  to  see  an  actual  river.  These  two  steps  termi- 
nate the  acquisition  of  particular  facts. 

The  next  two  steps  are  directed  toward  getting  a 
general  principle  or  conception.  The  local  river  is 
compared  with,  perhaps,  the  Amazon,  the  St.  Law- 
rence, the  Rhine ;  by  this  comparison  accidental  and 
unessential  features  are  eliminated  and  the  river  concept  is 
formed :  the  elements  involved  in  the  river-meaning  are 
gathered  together  and  formulated.  This  done,  the  re- 
sulting principle  is  fixed  in  mind  and  is  clarified  by 
being  applied  to  other  streams,  say  to  the  Thames,  the 
Po,  the  Connecticut. 

If  we  compare  this  account  of   the  methods  of  in-  Comparison 
struction  with  our  own  analysis  of  a  complete  operation  W1.thour 

*  prior  analy- 

of  thinking,  we  are  struck  by  obvious  resemblances.    In  sis  of 
our  statement  (compare  Chapter  Six)  the  "  steps  "  are  reflection 
the  occurrence  of   a  problem    or  a  puzzling  phenom- 
enon ;    then  observation,  inspection  of  facts,  to  locate 
and  clear  up   the   problem  ;    then  the  formation  of  a 
hypothesis   or   the   suggestion   of    a   possible   solution 
together  with  its  elaboration  by  reasoning ;    then  the 
testing  of  the  elaborated  idea  by  using  it  as  a  guide 
to   new  observations   and   experimentations.     In    each 
account,  there  is  the  sequence  of  (z)  specific  facts  and 


204 


HOW  WE   THINK 


The  formal 
steps  con- 
cern the 
teacher's 
preparation 
rather  than 
the  recita- 
tion itself 


The 

teacher's 
problem 


events,  (zY)  ideas  and  reasonings,  and  (iit)  application  of 
their  result  to  specific  facts.  In  each  case,  the  move- 
ment is  inductive-deductive.  We  are  struck  also  by  one 
difference :  the  Herbartian  method  makes  no  reference 
to  a  difficulty,  a  discrepancy  requiring  explanation,  as 
the  origin  and  stimulus  of  the  whole  process.  As  a 
consequence,  it  often  seems  as  if  the  Herbartian  method 
deals  with  thought  simply  as  an  incident  in  the  process 
of  acquiring  information,  instead  of  treating  the  latter 
as  an  incident  in  the  process  of  developing  thought. 

Before  following  up  this  comparison  in  more  detail, 
we  may  raise  the  question  whether  the  recitation  should, 
in  any  case,  follow  a  uniform  prescribed  series  of  steps 
—  even  if  it  be  admitted  that  this  series  expresses  the 
normal  logical  order.  In  reply,  it  may  be  said  that  just 
because  the  order  is  logical,  it  represents  the  survey  of 
subject-matter  made  by  one  who  already  understands 
it,  not  the  path  of  progress  followed  by  a  mind  that  is 
learning.  The  former  may  describe  a  uniform  straight- 
way course,  the  latter  must  be  a  series  of  tacks,  of  zig- 
zag movements  back  and  forth.  In  short,  the  formal 
steps  indicate  the  points  that  should  be  covered  by  the 
teacher  in  preparing  to  conduct  a  recitation,  but  should 
not  prescribe  the  actual  course  of  teaching. 

Lack  of  any  preparation  on  the  part  of  a  teacher 
leads,  of  course,  to  a  random,  haphazard  recitation,  its 
success  depending  on  the  inspiration  of  the  moment, 
which  may  or  may  not  come.  Preparation  in  simply 
the  subject-matter  conduces  to  a  rigid  order,  the  teacher 
examining  pupils  on  their  exact  knowledge  of  their  text. 
But  the  teacher's  problem  —  as  a  teacher  —  does  not 
reside  in  mastering  a  subject-matter,  but  in  adjusting 
a  subject-matter  to  the  nurture  of  thought.  Now  the 


RECITATION   AND   TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     205 

formal  steps  indicate  excellently  well  the  questions  a 
teacher  should  ask  in  working  out  the  problem  of  teach- 
ing a  topic.  What  preparation  have  my  pupils  for  at- 
tacking this  subject  ?  What  familiar  experiences  of 
theirs  are  available  ?  What  have  they  already  learned 
that  will  come  to  their  assistance  ?  How  shall  I  present 
the  matter  so  as  to  fit  economically  and  effectively  into 
their  present  equipment  ?  What  pictures  shall  I  show  ? 
To  what  objects  shall  I  call  their  attention  ?  What  inci- 
dents shall  I  relate  ?  What  comparisons  shall  I  lead 
them  to  draw,  what  similarities  to  recognize  ?  What 
is  the  general  principle  toward  which  the  whole  dis- 
cussion should  point  as  its  conclusion  ?  By  what  ap- 
plications shall  I  try  to  fix,  to  clear  up,  and  to  make 
real  their  grasp  of  this  general  principle  ?  What 
activities  of  their  own  may  bring  it  home  to  them  as 
a  genuinely  significant  principle  ? 

No  teacher  can  fail  to  teach  better  if   he  has  con-  only  fieri- 
sidered  such  questions  somewhat  systematically.     But  bility°f 

procedure 

the  more  the  teacher  has  reflected  upon  pupils'  probable  gives  a 
intellectual  response  to  a  topic  from  the  various  stand- 
points  indicated  by  the  five  formal  steps,  the  more  he 
will  be  prepared  to  conduct  the  recitation  in  a  flexible 
and  free  way,  and  yet  not  let  the  subject  go  to 
pieces  and  the  pupils'  attention  drift  in  all  directions ; 
the  less  necessary  will  he  find  it,  in  order  to  preserve  a 
semblance  of  intellectual  order,  to  follow  some  one 
uniform  scheme.  He  will  be  ready  to  take  advantage 
of  any  sign  of  vital  response  that  shows  itself  from  any 
direction.  One  pupil  may  already  have  some  inkling — 
probably  erroneous  —  of  a  general  principle.  Applica- 
tion may  then  come  at  the  very  beginning  in  order  to 
show  that  the  principle  will  not  work,  and  thereby 


206  HOW  WE   THINK 

Any  step        induce  search  for  new  facts  and  a  new  generalization. 

first  °'  ^  ^e  abrupt  presentation  of  some  fact  or  object  may 

so  stimulate  the  minds  of  pupils  as  to  render  quite 
superfluous  any  preliminary  preparation.  If  pupils' 
minds  are  at  work  at  all,  it  is  quite  impossible  that  they 
should  wait  until  the  teacher  has  conscientiously  taken 
them  through  the  steps  of  preparation,  presentation,  and 
comparison  before  they  form  at  least  a  working  hypothe- 
sis or  generalization.  Moreover,  unless  comparison  of 
the  familiar  and  the  unfamiliar  is  introduced  at  the 
beginning,  both  preparation  and  presentation  will  be 
aimless  and  without  logical  motive,  isolated,  and  in 
so  far  meaningless.  The  student's  mind  cannot  be 
prepared  at  large,  but  only  for  something  in  par- 
ticular, and  presentation  is  usually  the  best  way  of 
evoking  associations.  The  emphasis  may  fall  now  on 
the  familiar  concept  that  will  help  grasp  the  new,  now 
on  the  new  facts  that  frame  the  problem ;  but  in  either 
case  it  is  comparison  and  contrast  with  the  other  term 
of  the  pair  which  gives  either  its  force.  In  short, 
to  transfer  the  logical  steps  from  the  points  that  the 
teacher  needs  to  consider  to  uniform  successive  steps 
in  the  conduct  of  a  recitation,  is  to  impose  the  logical 
review  of  a  mind  that  already  understands  the  subject, 
upon  the  mind  that  is  struggling  to  comprehend  it,  and 
thereby  to  obstruct  the  logic  of  the  student's  own  mind. 

§  2.    The  Factors  in  the  Recitation 

Bearing  in  mind  that  the  formal  steps  represent  inter- 
twined factors  of  a  student's  progress  and  not  mileposts 
on  a  beaten  highway,  we  may  consider  each  by  itself. 
In  so  doing,  it  will  be  convenient  to  follow  the  example 
of  many  of  the  Herbartians  and  reduce  the  steps  to 


RECITATION   AND   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT     2O/ 

three :  first,  the  apprehension  of  specific  or  particular 
facts  ;  second,  rational  generalization  ;  third,  application 
and  verification. 

I.    The  processes  having  to  do  with  particular  facts  Preparation 
are  preparation  and  presentation.     The  best,  indeed  the  ^J^gf^ 
only  preparation  is  arousal  to  a  perception  of  something  a  problem 
that  needs  explanation,  something  unexpected,  puzzling, 
peculiar.     When  the  feeling  of  a  genuine  perplexity  lays 
hold  of  any  mind  (no  matter  how  the  feeling  arises),  that 
mind  is  alert  and  inquiring,  because   stimulated  from 
within.     The  shock,  the  bite,  of  a  question  will  force  the 
mind  to  go  wherever  it  is  capable  of  going,  better  than 
will  the  most  ingenious  pedagogical  devices  unaccom- 
panied  by   this   mental   ardor.     It  is  the    sense    of   a 
problem  that  forces  the  mind  to  a  survey  and  recall  of 
the  past  to  discover  what  the  question  means  and  how 
it  may  be  dealt  with. 

The  teacher  in  his  more  deliberate  attempts  to  call  Pitfalls  in 
into  play  the  familiar  elements  in  a  student's  experience,  prepar 
must  guard  against  certain  dangers,  (z)  The  step  of 
preparation  must  not  be  too  long  continued  or  too  ex- 
haustive, or  it  defeats  its  own  end.  The  pupil  loses  in- 
terest and  is  bored,  when  a  plunge  in  medias  res  might 
have  braced  him  to  his  work.  The  preparation  part  of 
the  recitation  period  of  some  conscientious  teachers  re- 
minds one  of  the  boy  who  takes  so  long  a  run  in  order 
to  gain  headway  for  a  jump  that  when  he  reaches  the 
line,  he  is  too  tired  to  jump  far.  (zY)  The  organs  by 
which  we  apprehend  new  material  are  our  habits.  To 
insist  too  minutely  upon  turning  over  habitual  disposi- 
tions into  conscious  ideas  is  to  interfere  with  their  best 
workings.  Some  factors  of  familiar  experience  must  in- 
deed be  brought  to  conscious  recognition,  just  as  trans- 


208 


HOW   WE  THINK 


Statement 
of  aim  of 


How  much 
the  teacher 
should  tell 
or  show 


planting  is  necessary  for  the  best  growth  of  some  plants. 
But  it  is  fatal  to  be  forever  digging  up  either  experiences 
or  plants  to  see  how  they  are  getting  along.  Constraint, 
self-consciousness,  embarrassment,  are  the  consequence  of 
too  much  conscious  refurbishing  of  familiar  experiences. 

Strict  Herbartians  generally  lay  it  down  that  state- 
ment—  by  the  teacher  —  of  the  aim  of  a  lesson  is  an 
indispensable  part  of  preparation.  This  preliminary 
statement  of  the  aim  of  the  lesson  hardly  seems  more 
intellectual  in  character,  however,  than  tapping  a  bell 
or  giving  any  other  signal  for  attention  and  transfer  of 
thoughts  from  diverting  subjects.  To  the  teacher  the 
statement  of  an  end  is  significant,  because  he  has  already 
been  at  the  end ;  from  a  pupil's  standpoint  the  statement 
of  what  he  is  going  to  learn  is  something  of  an  Irish 
bull.  If  the  statement  of  the  aim  is  taken  too  seriously 
by  the  instructor,  as  meaning  more  than  a  signal  to  at- 
tention, its  probable  result  is  forestalling  the  pupil's  own 
reaction,  relieving  him  of  the  responsibility  of  develop- 
ing a  problem  and  thus  arresting  his  mental  initiative. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  at  length  presentation  as 
a  factor  in  the  recitation,  because  our  last  chapter 
covered  the  topic  under  the  captions  of  observation  and 
communication.  The  function  of  presentation  is  to  sup- 
ply materials  that  force  home  the  nature  of  a  problem 
and  furnish  suggestions  for  dealing  with  it.  The  prac- 
tical problem  of  the  teacher  is  to  preserve  a  balance  be- 
tween so  little  showing  and  telling  as  to  fail  to  stimulate 
reflection  and  so  much  as  to  choke  thought.  Provided 
the  student  is  genuinely  engaged  upon  a  topic,  and  pro- 
vided the  teacher  is  willing  to  give  the  student  a  good 
deal  of  leeway  as  to  what  he  assimilates  and  retains  (not 
requiring  rigidly  that  everything  be  grasped  or  repro- 


V 
RECITATION   AND   TRAINING  OF  THOUGHT     209 

duced),  there  is  comparatively  little  danger  that  one  who 
is  himself  enthusiastic  will  communicate  too  much  con- 
cerning a  topic. 

II.  The  distinctively  rational  phase  of  reflective  in-  The  pupil's 
quiry  consists,  as  we  have  already  seen,  in  the  elabora-  [^orm^k- 
tion  of  an  idea,  or  working  hypothesis,  through  conjoint  ing  out  a 
comparison  and  contrast,  terminating  in  definition  or 
formulation,  (i)  So  far  as  the  recitation  is  concerned, 
the  primary  requirement  is  that  the  student  be  held 
responsible  for  working  out  mentally  every  suggested 
principle  so  as  to  show  what  he  means  by  it,  how 
it  bears  upon  the  facts  at  hand,  and  how  the  facts 
bear  upon  it.  Unless  the  pupil  is  made  responsible  for 
developing  on  his  own  account  the  reasonableness  of  the 
guess  he  puts  forth,  the  recitation  counts  for  practically 
nothing  in  the  training  of  reasoning  power.  A  clever 
teacher  easily  acquires  great  skill  in  dropping  out  the 
inept  and  senseless  contributions  of  pupils,  and  in  select- 
ing and  emphasizing  those  in  line  with  the  result  he 
wishes  to  reach.  But  this  method  (sometimes  called 
"suggestive  questioning")  relieves  the  pupils  of  intel- 
lectual responsibility,  save  for  acrobatic  agility  in  follow- 
ing the  teacher's  lead. 

(zY)  The  working  over  of  a  vague  and  more  or  less  The  neces- 
casual  idea  into  coherent  and  definite  form  is  impossible  Sltyn£[[ 
without  a   pause,   without    freedom    from    distraction,  leisure 
We  say  "  Stop  and  think  "  ;  well,  all  reflection  involves, 
at  some  point,  stopping  external  observations  and  re- 
actions so  that  an  idea  may  mature.     Meditation,  with- 
drawal or  abstraction  from  clamorous  assailants  of  the 
senses  and  from  demands  for  overt  action,  is  as  necessary 
at  the  reasoning  stage,  as  are  observation  and  experi- 
ment at  other  periods.     The  metaphors  of  digestion  and 


2IO 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Atypical 
central 
object  nec- 
essary 


Importance 
of  types 


assimilation,  that  so  readily  occur  to  mind  in  connection 
with  rational  elaboration,  are  highly  instructive.  A 
silent,  uninterrupted  working-over  of  considerations  by 
comparing  and  weighing  alternative  suggestions,  is 
indispensable  for  the  development  of  coherent  and  com- 
pact conclusions.  Reasoning  is  no  more  akin  to  disput- 
ing or  arguing,  or  to  the  abrupt  seizing  and  dropping  of 
suggestions,  than  digestion  is  to  a  noisy  champing  of  the 
jaws.  The  teacher  must  secure  opportunity  for  leisurely 
mental  digestion. 

(iii)  In  the  process  of  comparison,  the  teacher  must 
avert  the  distraction  that  ensues  from  putting  before 
the  mind  a  number  of  facts  on  the  same  level  of  im- 
portance. Since  attention  is  selective,  some  one  object 
normally  claims  thought  and  furnishes  the  center  of 
departure  and  reference.  This  fact  is  fatal  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  pedagogical  methods  that  endeavor  to  con- 
duct comparison  on  the  basis  of  putting  before  the  mind 
a  row  of  objects  of  equal  importance.  In  comparing, 
the  mind  does  not  naturally  begin  with  objects  a,  b,  c,  d, 
and  try  to  find  the  respect  in  which  they  agree.  It  be- 
gins with  a  single  object  or  situation  more  or  less  vague 
and  inchoate  in  meaning,  and  makes  excursions  to  other 
objects  in  order  to  render  understanding  of  the  central 
object  consistent  and  clear.  The  mere  multiplication 
of  objects  of  comparison  is  adverse  to  successful  reason- 
ing. Each  fact  brought  within  the  field  of  comparison 
should  clear  up  some  obscure  feature  or  extend  some 
fragmentary  trait  of  the  primary  object 

In  short,  pains  should  be  taken  to  see  that  the  object 
on  which  thought  centers  is  typical:  material  being  typi- 
cal when,  although  individual  or  specific,  it  is  such  as 
readily  and  fruitfully  suggests  the  principles  of  an  en- 


RECITATION   AND   TRAINING   OF   THOUGHT     211 

tire  class  of  facts.  No  sane  person  begins  to  think 
about  rivers  wholesale  or  at  large.  He  begins  with  the 
one  river  that  has  presented  some  puzzling  trait.  Then 
he  studies  other  rivers  to  get  light  upon  the  baffling 
features  of  this  one,  and  at  the  same  time  he  employs 
the  characteristic  traits  of  his  original  object  to  reduce  to 
order  the  multifarious  details  that  appear  in  connection 
with  other  rivers.  This  working  back  and  forth  pre- 
serves unity  of  meaning,  while  protecting  it  from  mo- 
notony and  narrowness.  Contrast,  unlikeness,  throws 
significant  features  into  relief,  and  these  become  instru- 
ments for  binding  together  into  an  organized  or  coher- 
ent meaning  dissimilar  characters.  The  mind  is  de- 
fended against  the  deadening  influence  of  many  isolated 
particulars  and  also  against  the  barrenness  of  a  merely 
formal  principle.  Particular  cases  and  properties  sup- 
ply emphasis  and  concreteness  ;  general  principles  con- 
vert the  particulars  into  a  single  system. 

(iv)   Hence  generalization  is  not  a  separate  and  single  All  insight 
act  ;  it  is  rather  a  constant  tendency  and  function  of  the 


entire  discussion  or  recitation.  Every  step  forward  generaliz- 
toward  an  idea  that  comprehends,  that  explains,  that 
unites  what  was  isolated  and  therefore  puzzling,  gener- 
alizes. The  little  child  generalizes  as  truly  as  the  adoles- 
cent or  adult,  even  though  he  does  not  arrive  at  the 
same  generalities.  If  he  is  studying  a  river  basin,  his 
knowledge  is  generalized  in  so  far  as  the  various  details 
that  he  apprehends  are  found  to  be  the  effects  of  a  sin- 
gle force,  as  that  of  water  pushing  downward  from 
gravity,  or  are  seen  to  be  successive  stages  of  a  single  his- 
tory of  formation.  Even  if  there  were  acquaintance 
with  only  one  river,  knowledge  of  it  under  such  condi- 
tions would  be  generalized  knowledge. 


212 


HOW  WE   THINK 


Insight  into 
meaning 
requires 
formulation 


Generaliza- 
tion means 
capacity  for 
application 
to  the  new 


Fossilized 
versus 
flexible 
principles 


The  factor  of  formulation,  of  conscious  stating,  involved 
in  generalization,  should  also  be  a  constant  function, 
not  a  single  formal  act.  Definition  means  essentially 
the  growth  of  a  meaning  out  of  vagueness  into  definite- 
ness.  Such  final  verbal  definition  as  takes  place  should 
be  only  the  culmination  of  a  steady  growth  in  distinct- 
ness. In  the  reaction  against  ready-made  verbal  defini- 
tions and  rules,  the  pendulum  should  never  swing  to  the 
opposite  extreme,  that  of  neglecting  to  summarize  the 
net  meaning  that  emerges  from  dealing  with  particular 
facts.  Only  as  general  summaries  are  made  from  time 
to  time  does  the  mind  reach  a  conclusion  or  a  resting 
place ;  and  only  as  conclusions  are  reached  is  there  an 
intellectual  deposit  available  in  future  understanding. 

III.  As  the  last  words  indicate,  application  and  gen- 
eralization lie  close  together.  Mechanical  skill  for  fur- 
ther use  may  be  achieved  without  any  explicit  recogni- 
tion of  a  principle ;  nay,  in  routine  and  narrow  technical 
matters,  conscious  formulation  may  be  a  hindrance. 
But  without  recognition  of  a  principle,  without  general- 
ization, the  power  gained  cannot  be  transferred  to  new 
and  dissimilar  matters.  The  inherent  significance  of 
generalization  is  that  it  frees  a  meaning  from  local  re- 
strictions ;  rather,  generalization  is  meaning  so  freed ; 
it  is  meaning  emancipated  from  accidental  features  so 
as  to  be  available  in  new  cases.  The  surest  test  for  de- 
tecting a  spurious  generalization  (a  statement  general  in 
verbal  form  but  not  accompanied  by  discernment  of 
meaning),  is  the  failure  of  the  so-called  principle  spon- 
taneously to  extend  itself.  The  essence  of  the  general 
is  application.  (Ante,  p.  29.) 

The  true  purpose  of  exercises  that  apply  rules  and 
principles  is,  then,  not  so  much  to  drive  or  drill  them 


RECITATION   AND   TRAINING   OF  THOUGHT     213 

in  as  to  give  adequate  insight  into  an  idea  or  prin- 
ciple. To  treat  application  as  a  separate  final  step  is 
disastrous.  In  every  judgment  some  meaning  is  em- 
ployed as  a  basis  for  estimating  and  interpreting  some 
fact ;  by  this  application  the  meaning  is  itself  enlarged 
and  tested.  When  the  general  meaning  is  regarded  as 
complete  in  itself,  application  is  treated  as  an  external, 
non-intellectual  use  to  which,  for  practical  purposes  alone, 
it  is  advisable  to  put  the  meaning.  The  principle  is  one 
self-contained  thing  ;  its  use  is  another  and  independent 
thing.  When  this  divorce  occurs,  principles  become 
fossilized  and  rigid  ;  they  lose  their  inherent  vitality, 
their  self-impelling  power. 

A  true  conception  is  a  moving  idea,  and  it  seeks  out-  Seif-appii- 
let,  or  application  to  the  interpretation  of  particulars  and  catl°n  * 
the  guidance  of  action,  as  naturally  as  water  runs  down-  genuine 
hill.     In  fine,  just  as  reflective  thought  requires  particu-  PrmclPles 
lar   facts  of   observation  and   events  of  action   for  its 
origination,  so  it  also  requires  particular  facts  and  deeds 
for  its  own    consummation.     "  Glittering  generalities " 
are  inert  because   they  are  spurious.     Application   is 
as  much  an  intrinsic  part  of  genuine  reflective  inquiry 
as  is  alert  observation  or  reasoning  itself.     Truly  gen- 
eral principles  tend  to  apply  themselves.     The  teacher 
needs,  indeed,  to  supply  conditions  favorable  to  use  and 
exercise ;    but  something  is  wrong  when  artificial  tasks 
have  arbitrarily  to  be  invented  in  order  to  secure  ap- 
plication for  principles. 


CHAPTER   SIXTEEN 


The 

understood 
as  the  un- 
consciously 
assumed 


inquiry  as 


SOME  GENERAL  CONCLUSIONS 

WE  shall  conclude  our  survey  of  how  we  think  and 
how  we  should  think  by  presenting  some  factors  of 
thinking  which  should  balance  each  other,  but  which  con- 
stantly tend  to  become  so  isolated  that  they  work  against 
each  other  instead  of  cooperating  to  make  reflective  in- 
quiry efficient. 

§  i.    The  Unconscious  and  the  Conscious 

It  is  significant  that  one  meaning  of  the  term  under- 
stood is  something  so  thoroughly  mastered,  so  completely 
agreed  upon,  as  to  be  assumed  ;  that  is  to  say,  taken  as  a 
matter  of  course  without  explicit  statement.  The  familiar 
"  goes  without  saying  "  means  "  it  is  understood."  If 
two  persons  can  converse  intelligently  with  each  other,  it 
is  because  a  common  experience  supplies  a  background 
of  mutual  understanding  upon  which  their  respective  re- 
marks are  projected.  To  dig  up  and  to  formulate  this 
common  background  would  be  imbecile  ;  it  is  "  under- 
stood" ;  that  is,  it  is  silently  sup-plied  and  im-plied  as  the 
taken-for-granted  medium  of  intelligent  exchange  of  ideas. 

If,  however,  the  two  persons  find  themselves  at  cross- 
PurP°ses»  ^  ls  necessary  to  dig  up  and  compare  the  pre- 
suppositions, the  implied  context,  on  the  basis  of  which 
each  is  speaking.  The  im-plicit  is  made  ex-plicit  ;  what 
was  unconsciously  assumed  is  exposed  to  the  light  of 
conscious  day.  In  this  way,  the  root  of  the  misunder- 

214 


SOME   GENERAL  CONCLUSIONS  215 

standing  is  removed.  Some  such  rhythm  of  the  uncon- 
scious and  the  conscious  is  involved  in  all  fruitful 
thinking.  A  person  in  pursuing  a  consecutive  train  of 
thoughts  takes  some  system  of  ideas  for  granted  (which 
accordingly  he  leaves  unexpressed,  "  unconscious .")  as 
surely  as  he  does  in  conversing  with  others.  Some  con- 
text, some  situation,  some  controlling  purpose  dominates 
his  explicit  ideas  so  thoroughly  that  it  does  not  need 
to  be  consciously  formulated  and  expounded.  Explicit 
thinking  goes  on  within  the  limits  of  what  is  implied  or 
understood.  Yet  the  fact  that  reflection  originates  in  a 
problem  makes  it  necessary  at  some  points  consciously 
to  inspect  and  examine  this  familiar  background.  We 
have  to  turn  upon  some  unconscious  assumption  and 
make  it  explicit. 

No  rules  can  be  laid  down  for  attaining  the  due  balance  Rules  can 
and  rhythm  of  these  two  phases  of  mental  life.  No  or-  j^,.* 
dinance  can  prescribe  at  just  what  point  the  spontaneous  ing  a 
working  of  some  unconscious  attitude  and  habit  is  to  be 
checked  till  we  have  made  explicit  what  is  implied  in  it. 
No  one  can  tell  in  detail  just  how  far  the  analytic  in- 
spection and  formulation  are  to  be  carried.  We  can  say 
that  they  must  be  carried  far  enough  so  that  the  individual 
will  know  what  he  is  about  and  be  able  to  guide  his 
thinking ;  but  in  a  given  case  just  how  far  is  that  ?  We 
can  say  that  they  must  be  carried  far  enough  to  detect  and 
guard  against  the  source  of  some  false  perception  or 
reasoning,  and  to  get  a  leverage  on  the  investigation ; 
but  such  statements  only  restate  the  original  difficulty. 
Since  our  reliance  must  be  upon  the  disposition  and  tact 
of  the  individual  in  the  particular  case,  there  is  no  test 
of  the  success  of  an  education  more  important  than  the 
extent  to  which  it  nurtures  a  type  of  mind  competent  to 


2l6 


HOW   WE  THINK 


The  over- 


to  be 
avoided 


maintain  an  economical  balance  of  the  unconscious  and 
the  conscious. 

The  ways  of  teaching  criticised  in  the  foregoing  pages 
as  false  "  analytic  "  methods  of  instruction  (ante,  p.  112), 
all  reduce  themselves  to  the  mistake  of  directing  explicit 
attention  and  formulation  to  what  would  work  better  if 
left  an  unconscious  attitude  and  working  assumption. 
To  pry  into  the  familiar,  the  usual,  the  automatic,  simply 
for  the  sake  of  making  it  conscious,  simply  for  the  sake  of 
formulating  it,  is  both  an  impertinent  interference,  and 
a  source  of  boredom.  To  be  forced  to  dwell  consciously 
upon  the  accustomed  is  the  essence  of  ennui ;  to  pursue 
methods  of  instruction  that  have  that  tendency  is  de- 
liberately to  cultivate  lack  of  interest. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  has  been  said  in  criticism  of 
turn  of  error,  mereiy  routine  forms  of  skill,  what  has  been  said  about 

the  clinch-  J 

ing  of  truth,  the  importance  of  having  a  genuine  problem,  of  intro- 
ducing the  novel,  and  of  reaching  a  deposit  of  gen- 
eral meaning  weighs  on  the  other  side  of  the  scales. 
It  is  as  fatal  to  good  thinking  to  fail  to  make  con- 
scious the  standing  source  of  some  error  or  failure  as 
it  is  to  pry  needlessly  into  what  works  smoothly.  To 
over-simplify,  to  exclude  the  novel  for  the  sake  of 
prompt  skill,  to  avoid  obstacles  for  the  sake  of  averting 
errors,  is  as  detrimental  as  to  try  to  get  pupils  to  formu- 
late everything  they  know  and  to  state  every  step  of  the 
process  employed  in  getting  a  result.  Where  the  shoe 
pinches,  analytic  examination  is  indicated.  When  a 
topic  is  to  be  clinched  so  that  knowledge  of  it  will  carry 
over  into  an  effective  resource  in  further  topics,  conscious 
condensation  and  summarizing  are  imperative.  In  the 
early  stage  of  acquaintance  with  a  subject,  a  good  deal  of 
unconstrained  unconscious  mental  play  about  it  may  be 


The  detec- 


demand 

conscious 

statement 


SOME   GENERAL   CONCLUSIONS  217 

permitted,  even  at  the  risk  of  some  random  experiment- 
ing ;  in  the  later  stages,  conscious  formulation  and  re- 
view may  be  encouraged.  Projection  and  reflection, 
going  directly  ahead  and  turning  back  in  scrutiny,  should 
alternate.  Unconsciousness  gives  spontaneity  and  fresh- 
ness ;  consciousness,  conviction  and  controL 

§  2.   Process  and  Product 

A  like  balance  in  mental  life  characterizes  process  and  Play  and 
product.  We  met  one  important  phase  of  this  adjust-  workagam 
ment  in  considering  play  and  work.  In  play,  interest  cen- 
ters in  activity,  without  much  reference  to  its  outcome. 
The  sequence  of  deeds,  images,  emotions,  suffices  on 
its  own  account.  In  work,  the  end  holds  attention  and 
controls  the  notice  given  to  means.  Since  the  difference 
is  one  of  direction  of  interest,  the  contrast  is  one  of  em- 
phasis, not  of  cleavage.  When  comparative  prominence 
in  consciousness  of  activity  or  outcome  is  transformed 
into  isolation  of  one  from  the  other,  play  degenerates 
into  fooling,  and  work  into  drudgery. 

By  "  fooling"  we  understand  a  series  of  disconnected  Play  should 
temporary  overflows  of  energy  dependent  upon  whim 
and  accident.  When  all  reference  to  outcome  is  elimi- 
nated from  the  sequence  of  ideas  and  acts  that  make 
play,  each  member  of  the  sequence  is  cut  loose  from 
every  other  and  becomes  fantastic,  arbitrary,  aimless; 
mere  fooling  follows.  There  is  some  inveterate  tend' 
ency  to  fool  in  children  as  well  as  in  animals  ;  nor  is  the 
tendency  wholly  evil,  for  at  least  it  militates  against 
falling  into  ruts.  But  when  it  is  excessive  in  amount, 
dissipation  and  disintegration  follow ;  and  the  only  way 
of  preventing  this  consequence  is  to  make  regard  for 
results  enter  into  even  the  freest  play  activity. 


218 


HOW   WE  THINK 


nor  work, 
drudgery 


Balance  of 
playfulness 
and  serious- 
ness the 
intellectual 
ideal 


Exclusive  interest  in  the  result  alters  work  to  drudg- 
ery. For  by  drudgery  is  meant  those  activities  in 
which  the  interest  in  the  outcome  does  not  suffuse  the 
means  of  getting  the  result.  Whenever  a  piece  of  work 
becomes  drudgery,  the  process  of  doing  loses  all  value 
for  the  doer ;  he  cares  solely  for  what  is  to  be  had  at 
the  end  of  it.  The  work  itself,  the  putting  forth  of  en- 
ergy, is  hateful;  it  is  just  a  necessary  evil,  since  without 
it  some  important  end  would  be  missed.  Now  it  is  a 
commonplace  that  in  the  work  of  the  world  many  things 
have  to  be  done  the  doing  of  which  is  not  intrinsically 
very  interesting.  However,  the  argument  that  children 
should  be  kept  doing  drudgery-tasks  because  thereby 
they  acquire  power  to  be  faithful  to  distasteful  duties,  is 
wholly  fallacious.  Repulsion,  shirking,  and  evasion  are 
the  consequences  of  having  the  repulsive  imposed  — 
not  loyal  love  of  duty.  Willingness  to  work  for  ends  by 
means  of  acts  not  naturally  attractive  is  best  attained  by 
securing  such  an  appreciation  of  the  value  of  the  end 
that  a  sense  of  its  value  is  transferred  to  its  means  of 
accomplishment.  Not  interesting  in  themselves,  they 
borrow  interest  from  the  result  with  which  they  are 
associated. 

The  intellectual  harm  accruing  from  divorce  of  work 
and  play,  product  and  process,  is  evidenced  in  the 
proverb,  "All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull 
boy."  That  the  obverse  is  true  is  perhaps  sufficiently 
signalized  in  the  fact  that  fooling  is  so  near  to  foolish- 
ness. To  be  playful  and  serious  at  the  same  time 
is  possible,  and  it  defines  the  ideal  mental  condition. 
Absence  of  dogmatism  and  prejudice,  presence  of  intel- 
lectual curiosity  and  flexibility,  are  manifest  in  the  free 
play  of  the  mind  upon  a  topic.  To  give  the  mind  this 


SOME   GENERAL  CONCLUSIONS  219 

free  play  is  not  to  encourage  toying  with  a  subject, 
but  is  to  be  interested  in  the  unfolding  of  the  subject 
on  its  own  account,  apart  from  its  subservience  to  a 
preconceived  belief  or  habitual   aim.     Mental  play  is 
open-mindedness,    faith   in   the   power  of    thought   to  Free  play 
preserve  its  own  integrity  without  external  supports  and  °*  mln(1 
arbitrary  restrictions.     Hence  free  mental  play  involves 
seriousness,  the  earnest  following  of  the  development  of 
subject-matter.     It  is  incompatible  with  carelessness  or 
flippancy,  for  it  exacts  accurate  noting  of  every  result 
reached  in  order  that  every  conclusion  may  be  put  to 
further  use.     What  is  termed  the  interest  in  truth  for 
its  own  sake  is  certainly  a  serious  matter,  yet  this  pure 
interest  in  truth  coincides  with  love  of  the  free  play  of  is  normal  in 
thought.  chudhood 

In  spite  of  many  appearances  to  the  contrary  —  usu- 
ally due  to  social  conditions  of  either  undue  superfluity 
that  induces  idle  fooling  or  undue  economic  pressure 
that  compels  drudgery  —  childhood  normally  realizes  the 
ideal  of  conjoint  free  mental  play  and  thoughtfulness. 
Successful  portrayals  of  children  have  always  made 
their  wistful  intentness  at  least  as  obvious  as  their  lack 
of  worry  for  the  morrow.  To  live  in  the  present  is 
compatible  with  condensation  of  far-reaching  meanings 
in  the  present.  Such  enrichment  of  the  present  for  its 
own  sake  is  the  just  heritage  of  childhood  and  the  best 
insurer  of  future  growth.  The  child  forced  into  pre- 
mature concern  with  economic  remote  results  may  de- 
velop a  surprising  sharpening  of  wits  in  a  particular 
direction,  but  this  precocious  specialization  is  always 
paid  for  6}  later  apathy  and  dullness. 

That  art  originated  in  play  is  a  common  saying 
Whether  or  not  the  saying  is  historically  correct,  it  artist 


220  HOW  WE  THINK 

suggests  that  harmony  of  mental  playfulness  and  seri- 
ousness describes  the  artistic  ideal.  When  the  artist  is 
preoccupied  overmuch  with  means  and  materials,  he 
may  achieve  wonderful  technique,  but  not  the  artistic 
spirit  par  excellence.  When  the  animating  idea  is  in  ex- 
cess of  the  command  of  method,  aesthetic  feeling  may  be 
indicated,  but  the  art  of  presentation  is  too  defective 
to  express  the  feeling  thoroughly.  When  the  thought 
of  the  end  becomes  so  adequate  that  it  compels  transla- 
tion into  the  means  that  embody  it,  or  when  attention 
to  means  is  inspired  by  recognition  of  the  end  they 
serve,  we  have  the  attitude  typical  of  the  artist,  an  atti- 
tude that  may  be  displayed  in  all  activities,  even  though 
not  conventionally  designated  arts. 

The  art  of  That  teaching  is  an  art  and  the  true  teacher  an  artist  is 
culminates  a  familiar  saying.  Now  the  teacher's  own  claim  to  rank 
in  nurturing  as  an  artist  is  measured  by  his  ability  to  foster  the  attitude 
of  the  artist  in  those  who  study  with  him,  whether  they 
be  youth  or  little  children.  Some  succeed  in  arousing 
enthusiasm,  in  communicating  large  ideas,  in  evoking 
energy.  So  far,  well ;  but  the  final  test  is  whether  the 
stimulus  thus  given  to  wider  aims  succeeds  in  transform- 
ing itself  into  power,  that  is  to  say,  into  the  attention  to 
detail  that  ensures  mastery  over  means  of  execution. 
If  not,  the  zeal  flags,  the  interest  dies  out,  the  ideal  be- 
comes a  clouded  memory.  Other  teachers  succeed  in 
training  facility,  skill,  mastery  of  the  technique  of  sub- 
jects. Again  it  is  well  —  so  far.  But  unless  enlarge- 
ment of  mental  vision,  power  of  increased  discrimination 
of  final  values,  a  sense  for  ideas  —  for  principles  — 
accompanies  this  training,  forms  of  skill  ready  to  be 
put  indifferently  to  any  end  may  be  the  result.  Such 
modes  of  technical  skill  may  display  themselves,  accord- 


SOME   GENERAL   CONCLUSIONS  221 

ing  to  circumstances,  as  cleverness  in  serving  self-inter- 
est, as  docility  in  carrying  out  the  purposes  of  others,  or 
as  unimaginative  plodding  in  ruts.  To  nurture  inspir- 
ing aim  and  executive  means  into  harmony  with  each 
other  is  at  once  the  difficulty  and  the  reward  of  the 
teacher. 

§  3.    The  Far  and  the  Near 

Teachers  who  have  heard  that  they  should  avoid  "Familiar- 
matters  foreign  to  pupils'  experience,  are  frequently 
surprised  to  find  pupils  wake  up  when  something  beyond 
their  ken  is  introduced,  while  they  remain  apathetic  in 
considering  the  familiar.  In  geography,  the  child  upon 
the  plains  seems  perversely  irresponsive  to  the  intel- 
lectual charms  of  his  local  environment,  and  fascinated 
by  whatever  concerns  mountains  or  the  sea.  Teachers 
who  have  struggled  with  little  avail  to  extract  from 
pupils  essays  describing  the  details  of  things  with  which 
they  are  well  acquainted,  sometimes  find  them  eager 
to  write  on  lofty  or  imaginary  themes.  A  woman  of 
education,  who  has  recorded  her  experience  as  a  factory 
worker,  tried  retelling  Little  Women  to  some  factory  girls 
during  their  working  hours.  They  cared  little  for  it, 
saying,  "  Those  girls  had  no  more  interesting  experience 
than  we  have,"  and  demanded  stories  of  millionaires  and 
society  leaders.  A  man  interested  in  the  mental  con- 
dition of  those  engaged  in  routine  labor  asked  a  Scotch 
girl  in  a  cotton  factory  what  she  thought  about  all 
day.  She  replied  that  as  soon  as  her  mind  was  free 
from  starting  the  machinery,  she  married  a  duke,  and 
their  fortunes  occupied  her  for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 

Naturally,  these  incidents  are  not  told  in  order  to  en- 
courage methods  of  teaching  that  appeal  to  the  sensa- 


222 


HOW   WE   THINK 


since  only 
the  novel 
demands 
attention, 


which,  in 
turn,  can  be 
given  only 
through  the 
old 


fhe  given 
and  the 

suggested 


tional,  the  extraordinary,  or  the  incomprehensible. 
They  are  told,  however,  to  enforce  the  point  that  the 
familiar  and  the  near  do  not  excite  or  repay  thought  on 
their  own  account,  but  only  as  they  are  adjusted  to 
mastering  the  strange  and  remote.  It  is  a  common- 
place of  psychology  that  we  do  not  attend  to  the  old, 
nor  consciously  mind  that  to  which  we  are  thoroughly 
accustomed.  For  this,  there  is  good  reason :  to  devote 
attention  to  the  old,  when  new  circumstances  are  con- 
stantly arising  to  which  we  should  adjust  ourselves, 
would  be  wasteful  and  dangerous.  Thought  must  be 
reserved  for  the  new,  the  precarious,  the  problematic. 
Hence  the  mental  constraint,  the  sense  of  being  lost, 
that  comes  to  pupils  when  they  are  invited  to  turn  their 
thoughts  upon  that  with  which  they  are  already  familiar. 
The  old,  the  near,  the  accustomed,  is  not  that  to  which 
but  that  with  which  we  attend ;  it  does  not  furnish  the 
material  of  a  problem,  but  of  its  solution. 

The  last  sentence  has  brought  us  to  the  balancing  of 
ntw  and  old,  of  the  far  and  that  close  by,  involved  in  re- 
flection. The  more  remote  supplies  the  stimulus  and  the 
motive ;  thr;  nearer  at  hand  furnishes  the  point  of  ap- 
proach and  the  available  resources.  This  principle  may 
also  be  stated  in  this  form :  the  best  thinking  occurs 
when  the  easy  and  the  difficult  are  duly  proportioned  to 
each  other.  The  easy  and  the  familiar  are  equivalents, 
as  are  the  strange  and  the  difficult.  Too  much  that  is 
easy  gives  no  ground  for  inquiry ;  too  much  of  the  hard 
renders  inquiry  hopeless. 

The  necessity  of  the  interaction  of  the  near  and  the 
far  follows  directly  from  the  nature  of  thinking.  Where 
there  is  thought,  something  present  suggests  and  indi- 
cates something  absent.  Accordingly  unless  the  familiar 


SOME   GENERAL   CONCLUSIONS  223 

is  presented  under  conditions  that  are  in  some  respect 
unusual,  it  gives  no  jog  to  thinking,  it  makes  no  demand 
upon  what  is  not  present  in  order  to  be  understood. 
And  if  the  subject  presented  is  totally  strange,  there  is 
no  basis  upon  which  it  may  suggest  anything  service- 
able for  its  comprehension.  When  a  person  first  has  to 
do  with  fractions,  for  example,  they  will  be  wholly 
baffling  so  far  as  they  do  not  signify  to  him  some  rela- 
tion that  he  has  already  mastered  in  dealing  with  whole 
numbers.  When  fractions  have  become  thoroughly 
familiar,  his  perception  of  them  acts  simply  as  a  signal 
to  do  certain  things;  they  are  a  "substitute  sign,"  to 
which  he  can  react  without  thinking.  (Ante,  p.  178.) 
If,  nevertheless,  the  situation  as  a  whole  presents  some- 
thing novel  and  hence  uncertain,  the  entire  response  is 
not  mechanical,  because  this  mechanical  operation  is  put 
to  use  in  solving  a  problem.  There  is  no  end  to  this 
spiral  process :  foreign  subject-matter  transformed 
through  thinking  into  a  familiar  possession  becomes  a 
resource  for  judging  and  assimilating  additional  foreign 
subject-matter. 

The  need  for  both  imagination  and  observation  in  observation 
every  mental  enterprise  illustrates  another  aspect  of  the  ^g 
same  principle.     Teachers  who  have  tried  object-lessons  nation 
of  the  conventional  type  have  usually  found  that  when  the  x 
the  lessons  were  new,  pupils  were  attracted  to  them  as 
a  diversion,  but  as  soon  as  they   became   matters  of 
course  they  were  as  dull  and  wearisome  as  was  ever  the 
most  mechanical  study  of  mere  symbols.     Imagination 
could  not  play  about  the  objects  so  as  to  enrich  them. 
The  feeling  that  instruction  in  "  facts,  facts  "  produces 
a   narrow  Gradgrind  is  justified  not  because  facts  in 
themselves  are  limiting,  but  because  facts  are  dealt  out 


224 


HOW   WE   THINK 


Experience 
through 

communi- 
cation of 
others' 
experience 


as  such  hard  and  fast  ready-made  articles  as  to  leave 
no  room  to  imagination.  Let  the  facts  be  presented  so 
as  to  stimulate  imagination,  and  culture  ensues  naturally 
enough.  The  converse  is  equally  true.  The  imagina- 
tive is  not  necessarily  the  imaginary ;  that  is,  the  unreal. 
The  proper  function  of  imagination  is  vision  of  realities 
that  cannot  be  exhibited  under  existing  conditions  of 
sense-perception.  Clear  insight  into  the  remote,  the 
absent,  the  obscure  is  its  aim.  History,  literature,  and 
geography,  the  principles  of  science,  nay,  even  geometry 
and  arithmetic,  are  full  of  matters  that  must  be  imagi- 
natively realized  if  they  are  realized  at  all.  Imagination 
supplements  and  deepens  observation ;  only  when  it 
turns  into  the  fanciful  does  it  become  a  substitute  for 
observation  and  lose  logical  force. 

A  final  exemplification  of  the  required  balance  be- 
tween near  and  far  is  found  in  the  relation  that  obtains 
between  the  narrower  field  of  experience  realized  in  an 
individual's  own  contact  with  persons  and  things,  and 
the  wider  experience  of  the  race  that  may  become 
his  through  communication.  Instruction  always  runs 
the  risk  of  swamping  the  pupil's  own  vital,  though  nar- 
row, experience  under  masses  of  communicated  material. 
The  instructor  ceases  and  the  teacher  begins  at  the 
point  where  communicated  matter  stimulates  into  fuller 
and  more  significant  life  that  which  has  entered  by 
the  strait  and  narrow  gate  of  sense-perception  and 
motor  activity.  Genuine  communication  involves  con- 
tagion ;  its  name  should  not  be  taken  in  vain  by  terming 
communication  that  which  produces  no  community  of 
thought  and  purpose  between  the  child  and  the  race 
of  which  he  is  the  heir. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 
EDUCATION  AND  PSYCHOLOGY  LIBRARY 

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